Freedom Is Life's Greatest Lie
by Ec1aire
Summary: Everyone desires freedom. But whenever it seems like it's within reaching distance, freedom always somehow finds a way to disappear. For James and Daphne, freedom is even harder to achieve, as every step they take is closely watched from all sides. And no matter how fast or how far they run, somehow their enemies always find them. Winter Soldier/OC. Book Two.
1. 1 - Memories of Her

**A/N: Hello and welcome to part two of the Daphne/Bucky series. For those of you who haven't already done so, I would recommend you read the first book (We're All Stories In The End) before you read this, just so it makes more sense. For those of you returning, welcome back!**

* * *

 **1 - Memories of Her**

"Why is it that, wherever we go, we always end up on a freakin' roof?"

James and I were lying on a roof top next to each other, his metal hand gently grasping mine. We stared up at the night sky, like we had that day in D.C. that felt like a lifetime ago.

James chuckled beside me. "I suppose it's a subconscious choice. We were always most free when we were outside. And the only time we were ever outside-"

"Was when we were on missions," I said lowly. I sighed. "We're never going to be able to run away from this, are we?"

James shook his head. "No." He turned his head. "But we'll make it work, somehow."

"How are your memories doing?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

He shrugged. "I've got a few back. There's a little girl who appears in a few - I don't know who she is, or what she's called, but I'm pretty sure she was important to me at one point."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "All I have are a few disjointed memories, and then suddenly she's gone."

"I'm sure you'll get them back."

"She's not the only one, though," James said, tucking my head under his chin. "There's another from the war days. I was sweet on her at the time." He chuckled. "She wouldn't have it, though. She was already taken. Still, I knew her for five years and I never once did I see the so-called man of her heart."

"What was her name?"

"Evie," he said with a small, nostalgic grin. I couldn't help but feel jealous of the probably long-dead woman. At least she had been able to know James while he was still the charming and roguish Bucky Barnes. "Though she hated being called that."

"Tell me about her," I requested softly.

He chuckled. "First time I met her, she'd just saved Steve from being beaten up. It was just for a minute, but I recognised her instantly when I saw her again. That kind of introduction tends to stick in the mind." His eyes became slightly glazed over. "She was a trainer for the Army," he said. "She was a... an unrelenting teacher, but she got results. And she knew how to have fun with the guys - she might as well have been one of them."

"I would have thought that a woman wouldn't have been allowed to train soldiers back then," I said, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, well, Evie wasn't exactly good at following orders. She did things her way, whether the higher-ups liked it or not." He chuckled. "One of the first team-building exercises she gave my group to do was to write a song."

"Write... a song?"

"Yeah," he said with a fond smile. "She said it was to help us form strong bonds, but it would also be useful if we ever need to find others in our platoon. Ours wasn't the first. During the time we were locked up with Hydra in Austria, there were men from fourteen of her groups who'd been transferred to the 107th after the war started. It confused the hell out of our guards when suddenly half a dozen or more guys would sing a song no one else knew." His face fell slightly. "Honestly, the knowledge that a lot of us had something in common helped us all through those days. We all owed her more than we ever said."

"I'm sure she knew," I murmured, smiling. She sounded like a decent girl, and so I was glad Bucky was able to be happy with her. It was a tough time back then. What confused me was the fact that she never showed up back in my old world. Not even a passing mention. Sure, those movies never said everything, but I would have thought this 'Evie' girl would get a part if she had been a romantic interest for Bucky.

James' voice broke me from my musing. "What about you? What about your memories?"

I sighed. "I had a lot less to remember," I muttered. "I've got nearly everything, I think. There are a few blank spots but most of it's there."

"What was it like? Your childhood."

I sighed. "Impossible," I answered honestly.

James frowned and rolled over so his body was turned completely towards me and he was propped up on his elbow. "Why impossible?"

I sighed before mirroring him and turning to face towards him. "Because my memories of my childhood include memories of things that haven't happened here yet."

"What do you-"

"Please," I interrupted. "I want to get this out all in one. I should have told you when we first met but I didn't for some reason. And then I was shoved into that machine and I forgot and..." I groaned, running a hand over my face. "My birthday is September 11th 1999. It was 2016 when I was shoved into Hydra's hands." I looked down, idly fiddling with a small stone that lay on the concrete roof. "Where I'm from, everything that exists in this world is just a story that a guy decided to sit down and write one day. When I left my home it was still incomplete. But... Jesus, James, I was watching a damned _movie_ before I came here! I'm not actually convinced what I remember is real because it's impossible." I sighed and flopped back onto my back, staring up at the stars. "I was born in 1999, I have the body of a 27 year old but have been alive for 78 years. I have three ages, James. I'm simultaneously 15, 27 and 78. Like I said; impossible."

James stared at me for a long time, then the corner of his lip turned upwards. "And I thought _my_ situation was weird," he said, lying on his back and gently tugging me against him. I allowed him to wrap his arm around my waist, placing my head over his heart. Sighing in contentment, I closed my eyes and focused on the steady beat of his heart.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I murmured, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

James' silent laugh vibrated through his chest. "I do now," he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"So, where exactly are we?" I asked.

James laughed again, this time audibly. "You know, I have no idea. Somewhere in Brooklyn."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, yeah, _I_ could have told you that."

James shrugged. "It seemed like a good stopping point," he said defensively.

"Hey, relax," I said, smiling. "We've got time now, remember?"

He sighed. "I know. I still feel like someone's going to jump out at us at any moment, though."

"Well, Hydra's still out there," I murmured. "And you can bet they're gonna be looking for us."

James smiled. "I still can't believe you've gone with jackets, hats and sunglasses to keep them off our trail."

"Hey, first of all, that arm of yours sticks out like a sore thumb, so the jacket was a great idea. Second, hats are good for hiding your face."

"But you refuse to wear hats."

"Which is where the sunglasses come in handy." I sent him a smug look.

"Even though it's not really warm enough to be wearing them? And, for that matter, it's _Brooklyn._ "

I snorted. "I come from England. I doubt it could be much worse."

"I guess we'll see about that," James murmured, before letting out a huff and sitting up, forcing me to do the same. "We should probably get some sleep," he said. "If Hydra's after us, and they get their hands on us again, I want to make the most of the time we're spending _out_ of their hands."

"And that involves sleep?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, accepting the hand up he offered me.

"It was a luxury we didn't get very often," he reminded me. "We've spent God only knows how long in those infernal freeze machines. That is _not_ a natural sleep."

"I never said it was," I muttered, before swinging down off the roof and landing comfortably on the ground two stories down. James landed a second later. We both started walking towards the motel where we'd 'booked' a room for the night (I'd distracted the guy behind the desk while James stole the door key), our minds easily recalling the route. Spending half a century tracking people gave one an exemplary sense of direction. "So where do you want to go tomorrow? Anywhere specific?"

"Uh, two places," James said, taking my hand. "The apartment complex where I used to live, and the school I went to."

I nodded. "Those sound like good options. Do you remember where they are?"

"Vaguely," he admitted. "I know where the school is because we passed it in the car earlier. The apartment block... well, I think we're gonna have to work with a few half-formed memories."

I shrugged. "It's a start," I murmured.

He chuckled, pulling me closer and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He then placed a soft kiss on the crown of my head. "That's all anything is these days, Silver," he replied.

* * *

I was starting to get a bit worried. Not only because James had been staring at the school playground for the last fifteen minutes, but also because the kids in said playground had noticed us and were looking a bit frightened.

"James," I said, for something like the twentieth time. He finally blinked and looked at me. I smiled. "I know we're supposed to be getting you your memories back, but staring at the kids is not gonna help. You're scaring them."

James smiled wanly, then shook his head. "Sorry, I was kind of in a world of my own."

"I noticed, funnily enough."

Rolling his eyes, James pointed into a dark, empty corner of the playground. "That's where I met Steve for the first time," he said. "He was being beaten up."

"Something I understand was a common occurrence," I muttered, and James laughed.

"That kid never did know when to stand down."

"If he did, he would never have become Captain America," I pointed out. "Someone else would have gotten the job, and for all we know that could have been the difference between America being saved and America being blown up."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

I chuckled. "We done here?" I asked. "Because, not to sound impatient, we still have no idea where you used to live. It might take _hours_ for us to find it."

"Or it might take minutes," he countered. James frowned, looked around him, and then started walking down the street to our left.

"Do you know where you're going, or are you just guessing?" I asked, catching up with him and sliding my fingers between his. James' hand squeezed mine gently.

"I'm following my instincts," he admitted. "It's-"

"A good place to start?" I finished with a grin.

James smirked. "Well, it's certainly not a bad place," he said, before stopping dead in his tracks. I followed his gaze to a little park, where a dozen or so children were laughing and running around. "I used to go there," James whispered, quietly enough that I barely caught it. "With that girl I told you about. She used to love going on the swings, and I always used to push her."

"Maybe she was your sister?" I suggested, thinking that was the sort of thing a brother would do for his sister.

James nodded absently. "I think you're right." He smiled. "Whenever she wanted to play on her own, or with her friends, I would always go and play football. I think it was just an excuse... I remember keeping an eye on her even from the field."

I chuckled. "Sounds like you were a damned good brother."

"If that's even what we were," he said, frowning. "I'm still not certain. I think- Daphne, where are you going?!"

I'd stopped listening, running forward with my full strength. When he started talking about playing football, I'd turned my gaze to the field to see there was a game currently being played. When the ball was kicked too hard, a little boy who couldn't be any older than five started chasing after it. Instinct pushed me into movement, and I watched with wide eyes as the ball bounced into the road. The boy followed.

I reached him and scooped him up into my arms before pushing off the ground, rolling over the roof of the car that was only a few feet away from hitting the boy. The boy started crying when I stopped on the other side of the road, and I saw him reaching towards the now flattened football.

I almost laughed. It was further proof of the child's ignorance when he didn't even notice that, if I hadn't reached him in time, he would have ended up the in the same state as the ball.

A small crowd had gathered around us, but I ignored them. I looked down at the little boy, smiling as I wiped his tears away.

"You shouldn't run into the road without looking, sweetheart," I told him, and his teary, brown eyes looked up at me. His bottom lips wobbled. I smiled and patted his head. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

He shook his head. "Th-th-that's m-my brother's ball," he stuttered around his tears. "It was h-his best."

I chuckled. "I think your brother would rather lose his favourite ball than lose his little brother, don't you?"

"But I'm not lost," the boy said, frowning in confusion, then sniffling again.

I chuckled. "Not anymore," I murmured, before picking him up. He instinctively wrapped his arms around my neck, and I turned to see the crowd around us had gone from just a few people to several dozen in just the space of a few seconds. I blinked when there was a bright flash in front of me. I glared at the photographer, who shrank back slightly. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, guys, this isn't a circus. Everything's fine, go back to whatever it was you were doing before." Slowly, the crowd dispersed, giving me the opportunity to cross back over the road. The group of boys (and two girls) who'd been playing football were stood waiting for us. One of them, with the same dusty blonde hair as the boy I held in my arms, ran forward.

"Mikey, are you alright?" he asked as I put the younger boy down.

Mikey nodded, chewing his lip. "I'm sorry I broke your ball," he murmured.

The older boy rolled his eyes. "It's just a ball, Mikey. It's okay." He turned to me, looking up at me with bright eyes and a wide grin. "Thank you for saving my brother, lady."

I chuckled. "No problem," I told him, ruffling his hair. "But next time don't play so close to the road, okay?"

He nodded, took Mikey's hand, and then he and the rest of his friends ran off.

I watched them for a few seconds, before glancing to my right as I felt James come to stand beside me. He was watching the boys as well. "You saved him," he murmured.

I chuckled. "Well done for pointing out the obvious."

James frowned. "No, I mean... Despite everything we've been through, your first instinct was to put your own life in danger in order to protect his. I never got that instinct. The closest I got was the instinct to save _you._ But even then rationality stopped me from doing so, because I knew you'd be fine."

I shrugged. "I remember more of my past," I said. "Maybe that's changed my perspective on things."

"Or maybe I'm more of a monster than you are," James said with a hollow voice.

I shook my head, turning his face towards mine with both of my hands on his cheeks. "You are _not_ a monster, James. You might not have had that instinct like I did, but the fact you regret that you did nothing proves you're still human. And hey, who else went to save that kid? No one. It was _just_ me. I'm pretty sure everyone else around here is your bog-standard human civilian. You're no worse than them."

James frowned. "I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse," he muttered, "since you just compared me to an average human being. On the one hand, being normal is something I kind of want, on the other hand, normal is a bit of a downgrade from where I am now."

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you always have to overcomplicate things?" I asked.

James sent me a crooked grin. "Because I know you can keep up," he said, before ducking down and planting a swift peck on my lips. "On the plus side," he added, "I remember where to go to get to my old house."

"Well, let's go then."

"What about your new fans?" James asked, and I glanced past him to see there were now several more photographers pointing their cameras at us.

"Do you think they're photographing us because of what I just did, or because they know exactly who we are?"

"Probably a bit of both."

I shrugged. "Either way, I plan to just ignore them. As far as they're aware, we're not even armed."

James snorted. "I doubt they're _that_ stupid, Daphne."

I chuckled. "Some of them might be." I grabbed his hand. "Well, are we going or what?"


	2. 2 - Little Sister

**A/N: Hi, guys. So here is chapter 2. It involves a few more Winterthorn (thank you Erudessa-gabrielle!) moments :)**

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* * *

 **2 - Little Sister**

James and I wandered along a seemingly abandoned street which was squashed between two rows of buildings. We'd been walking for around half an hour now. James kept assuring me it wasn't too much further, even though neither of us were in any kind of rush, and I really didn't mind the extra legwork.

As we passed what appeared to be an old post office, my phone started ringing. I jumped slightly, having forgotten I even had it with me. James sent me an amused look while I answered the phone. "Hey, Steve, how's it going?"

" _Did you know you and Bucky are all over the news right now?_ "

I stopped mid-step, causing James to stop as well, sending me a confused look. "Seriously?" I queried, raising my eyebrows.

" _Yeah. Apparently you saved a kid from getting hit by a car._ "

"Well, yeah, but it was less than an hour ago. How the hell did they get a story up so fast?"

Steve laughed. " _Today's press is very efficient._ "

I huffed. "Apparently so." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Do they know it was me, or do they just assume I'm some random bystander who happened to be in the right place at the right time?"

" _Well, considering they've decided to name the story 'Hitman to Hero' I'm going to assume they know exactly who you are._ "

I couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, they're really bad at choosing story names."

" _It's not like they had a long time to pick one. An hour isn't long, in anyone's book._ "

"Okay, Steve, give me a second. James is looking at me like his curiosity is going to kill him." I placed my free hand over the mic of my phone and said, "The story of me saving that little boy is already on the news."

James rolled his eyes. "Well, that's one way to draw attention," he muttered.

"It also means a lot more people know who we are," I said. "I think we're gonna have to cut this part of our trip short. If we spend too much time here it might make leaving difficult."

James nodded. "You're probably right."

I went back to the phone. "Okay, I'm back."

" _Nice to meet you,_ " Steve said in return.

I chuckled. "Don't tell me Stark's sarcasm is starting to rub off on you."

" _You've never even met him, how could you know that?_ "

I snorted. "Are you kidding? He's Tony freakin' Stark. _Everyone_ knows that."

Steve laughed on the other end of the line. " _Okay, yeah, that's true._ " He paused for a second. " _So listen, Thor's just come back from visiting Jane. He won't be here for long, so I wanted to ask if you'd like to meet him._ "

I hummed. "Well, after the little incident with the press, James and I have just decided to cut our road trip short. We're gonna head over to England after this last stop, and I doubt we'll be there long. How long is he staying?"

" _Uh, let me just ask._ " There was a shuffling on the other end of the line, followed by two different low voices talking back and forth to each other. Then Steve came back and said, " _He'll be here a week at most._ "

I nodded subconsciously. "I think we'll take the risk. If he's gone before we get back, tell him we said 'hi' regardless."

" _I will. But honestly, Daphne, I think he really wants to meet you guys. He's got a thing for warriors._ "

"Even brainwashed warriors who spent sixty years killing innocent people?"

Steve groaned. " _Give yourself a break, Daph. We all know you had no choice._ "

"It was still us who pulled the trigger, Steve," I murmured. "Listen, we should probably get going. We're quite close to the place where James used to live, and he's not very good at standing still when he's got somewhere else to be."

James sent me a stony look, but I just winked at him in return.

Steve chuckled. " _That's an old habit from the war days. Alright, we'll talk some other time. But be careful._ "

I groaned. "Dammit, Steve, you're as bad as him! How the hell do you think we've survived this long - luck? We can look after yourselves."

" _I know you can. But two people - even two supersoldiers - can still be overwhelmed. And we know Hydra are looking for you guys._ "

I groaned. "Great." I sighed. "Well, thanks for the heads up. See ya, Steve."

" _Bye, Daphne._ "

I hung up, putting my phone back in my pocket. I turned to James. "You ready to go?"

James smirked. "Oh, I never _stopped_ being ready. It's you that slowed us down."

"Technically, that was Steve's fault," I retorted.

"You didn't have to stop moving while on the phone," James pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up and keep walking, mister."

James saluted. "Yes, ma'am," he said, his Brooklyn accent becoming thicker momentarily. He held out a hand, wiggled his fingers invitingly, and then he tugged me close when I grasped his fingers again.

We walked for no more than another five minutes, before James came to a stop and looked around. He wore a frown.

"It's different, isn't it?" I said, looking at the buildings that looked like they had bricks no older than two decades.

James nodded. "It's all new," he murmured. "When I lived here, half of the bricks were cracked or crumbling, and at least a quarter of all the windows in the terrace were boarded up." He blinked a few times, before his stare became slightly glassy as he gazed down the length of the narrow street opposite us. "I used to play with her here," he muttered. "That little girl. She used to run around in a little dress with ribbons in her hair - she refused to go outside wearing anything else. She would try to hide from me by pressing herself against the bricks and covering her face with her hands. I always used to pretend not to see her for a few seconds, but then I would pick her up and drape her over my shoulder because I knew she loved it."

"You know, you could always ask Steve about her," I murmured, but James shook his head.

"No. I want to remember it myself."

I nodded, understanding that being told who she was wouldn't necessarily mean that James would in turn then be prompted to remember. "Well, what do you know about her?"

"She..." James frowned. "Well, she was like the female version of me, I think. We had all the same features, but we were the same person on the inside, you know?"

"How much younger was she than you?"

"Eight years, 237 days," a quiet voice said, and the both of us instinctively whirled around, taking a single step towards each other so we were right next to each other. My right hand twitched towards the blade I kept hidden up my sleeve, while James' metal arm whirled and clicked as it set itself into 'battle mode'. The woman facing us was frail, with white hair, but then I noticed she had the same eyes as James. I slowly relaxed my stance. The woman smiled. "I heard on the news you were here," she said, her voice just as weak as it had been before. "I had a feeling this neighbourhood would be your next stop."

"Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. This woman would be no threat at all, but that didn't mean I trusted her. For all I knew, she could have been a distraction. I glanced around me, making sure there was no one either in the shadows or on the rooftops around us. They were all thankfully bare.

The woman smiled. "My name is Rebecca. Rebecca Barnes-Proctor."

Beside me, I felt James tense. I glanced over at him and saw his face was crumpled with pain. In a second both his hands went to his head and he let out a yell, his fingers clawing at his scalp while his knees buckled and he fell to his knees on the floor. I crouched in front of him, murmuring in Russian, trying to move his focus away from the pain in his head. " _Deep breaths, Shadow. It's okay. We're okay. Just focus on me, alright? Pay attention to me - listen to my voice, notice the space I'm taking up, feel how warm I am. Just focus everything on me, okay, James?_ "

"Is he alright?"

I turned my head and saw the woman had moved closer. I waved an arm urgently. "No, get back," I said. "If you get too close you might get hurt."

She frowned, but didn't move any closer. Neither did she step back. She just stood firmly where she was. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned my attention back to James. His metal hand was balled into a tight fist against his skull, while his flesh hand was still tugging at his hair. I let out a long breath and gently took his hands in mine, ignoring how they tightened around my fingers. I could feel my bones complaining against the force of his grip, but I didn't try to make him loosen his fingers.

" _It hurts,_ " James muttered in Russian, his voice muffled due to the fact he looked like he was trying to hide his head behind his knees. " _It hurts. It hurts._ "

" _I know, sweetie,_ " I whispered. " _Just breathe. It'll go away. Just breathe, and try to relax. It'll make it easier._ "

Slowly, his breaths slowed and his hands relaxed, though they didn't let go completely. I tenderly ran my thumbs over his knuckles, and James let a long breath out before lifting his head. His eyes were slightly blurred by tears, and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked okay. He smiled weakly at me. "I'm alright," he said. "I... I remember her." He glanced over my shoulder at Rebecca, before slowly standing up. I did the same, and while I dropped the flesh one, I still held tightly onto his metal hand, offering silent support. "Becca," James breathed.

Rebecca smiled. "Hello, Bucky."

James winced. "Don't... Please, don't call me that. Call me James."

Rebecca blinked in surprise, before nodding. "Alright then." She smiled. "You used to hate that name," she told him.

James nodded. "Yeah, I know, I just..." He sighed. "It's a long story," he finished weakly.

Smiling sympathetically, Rebecca nodded her head. "I... figured. Especially since you should be whiter haired and wrinklier than me right now."

Huffing, he shook his head. "I should be dead."

"James..." I murmured warningly, but he just sent me a sad look, as if to say ' _you know it's true'_. I turned to see Rebecca's eyes flicking between the two of us. I smiled, catching her attention. "I doubt you really care about me with him here," I said, nodding at James, "but I'm Daphne."

Rebecca smiled. "You've been looking after my big brother," she said. "Of course I care."

I snorted. "I'm not sure I'd call it 'looking after him'," I said with a chuckle. "He's perfectly capable of looking after himself. I've just kept him company."

"Don't sell yourself short," Rebecca said, finally shuffling closer to us, until she was less than a metre away. Her eyes glimmered slightly when she beamed at us. "And don't flatter him, either," she said with a small smirk which looked _very_ familiar. "I doubt he'd last a week without you."

James narrowed his eyes at her. "I thought it was supposed to be _my_ job to tease _you_... _?_ "

Rebecca grinned. "Technically, I'm older than you now." Her smile became softer. "I live just around the corner. Would you like to come over for something to eat?"

"I..." James bit his lip, before glancing at me. "I think we were going to g-"

"Don't worry about leaving just yet, James," I said. "I'm sure no number of reporters could stop us leaving if we _really_ wanted to get out of here."

James hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, o-okay."

Rebecca smiled. "Excellent. Though, I should warn you, I'm expecting my grandkids after lunch."

"Grandkids?" James questioned, frowning.

Rebecca hummed, nodding her head as she turned around and began to walk towards her home. She had a slow gait, however I didn't mind slowing down my pace to walk with her, and I didn't think James did either. "Scott and Kimberly. The twin children of my son. They'll be..." She pondered for a moment. "I think they'll be in their early twenties by now. Gosh, has it really been that long?" She chuckled. "Last time I saw them they were still in high school."

"I think we should go before they show up," James said lowly. "I have a feeling you're not going to let us go until I tell you what happened to me over the years. I don't want to have to do it twice." He hesitated. "Do you.. Do they... know who I am? Who we both are?"

Rebecca nodded, her eyes darkening slightly. "Yes, we all do. And really, James, I do think they'd want to meet you. And Daphne. Kimberly in particular has taken a concerning interest in the two of you, apparently." She frowned. "David is very worried."

"David?"

"My son," she elaborated. "Their father. I think Kimberly wants to find you."

"Well," James murmured, "she's going to have a tough time, then."

I chuckled, while Rebecca just looked exasperated. "I could force you to meet them, you know," she said haughtily.

James gave her an incredulous once-over. "You're kidding, right? You're weaker than Steve used to be. And that's saying a lot."

I couldn't help but laugh, both at the comment and the fact that Rebecca in turn hit her brother for said comment. "There's no need to be rude, James," I said, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Do _you_ think we should stay and meet them?"

I paused, having not thought about my own wishes because I wasn't part of the Barnes family. I was perfectly willing to do whatever it was James wanted to do. I shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt," I said in the end.

"It might."

"It probably won't."

"It still might."

"Well, in that case, we'll just cross that bridge when we get there." I sighed. "They're your family, James," I said, in a low voice I doubted Rebecca's aged ears would pick up on. "Even if it's just the once, I think they deserve to meet you."

James stared at me for a long time, before shoving his hands in his pockets and sighing. "Fine," he said. "But if it looks like it's about to take a turn for the worst we're leaving straight away. Okay?"

I nodded. "Deal."


	3. 3 - The Proctors

**A/N: Hi! The next chapter is ago!**

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* * *

 **3 - The Proctors**

Lunch was... odd. Don't get me wrong, the food was amazing (seven thumbs-up for Rebecca's cooking skills), but conversation was far from light-hearted. Between the two of us, James and I managed to explain what had happened to us, but by the time we were finished it was nearly 2pm, and we had moved from the dining room into the lounge.

James and I were sat on a sofa together, my hands resting over his to stop him incessantly fiddling with them, while Rebecca was sitting in the plush armchair opposite us with a mug of herbal tea in her hands. It had been silent for six minutes and twelve seconds. I knew because I'd been counting.

"Well," Rebecca said at last, "I guess I can forgive you for avoiding the aging process for so long."

James looked at her in shock, but then he smiled, his eyebrows rose, and he laughed. It was short, single bark of laughter, but it was refreshing to hear nonetheless. "You mean... You mean you don't mind?"

Rebecca snorted. "I'd be a terrible sister if I didn't forgive my brother for doing things he had no choice but to do. Even if one of them was kill the President. But, on that note, mystery solved!" She chuckled to herself. "No more listening to conspiracy theories about _that_."

James shook his head. "You've gone mad, Becca."

Rolling her eyes, Rebecca put down her mug and leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. "No," she said firmly. "You can't spend your whole life regretting the things you did - because you had no other option besides death and, if what you've told me about this Hydra group is true, I doubt even that was viable. You're trying to make up for everything you've done and, by all means, go ahead. But don't let your past define your future. You don't _have_ to become a hero."

"I don't want to become a hero," James muttered. "I just want to make up for all the wrong I've done. And if the two aren't mutually exclusive, well, then so be it. I've done horrible things and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with those things weighing down on my conscience. At least if I try to somehow rectify it I can reduce that weight a little bit."

"As soon as you stop being interesting the world will ignore you and forget about you," Rebecca said wisely. "If you become a regular person, they'll forget you were once a killer. But become a hero, and you'll always have _someone_ bringing up your past. So, it's up to you. You can do good to make up for the bad, and the whole world will remember the Winter Soldier part of you... Or you can slip into the shadows, and while you perhaps won't be repaying your debts, so to speak, the world will eventually forget you."

At that point, the doorbell rang sharply.

I got up. "I'll get it," I murmured, wanting to give James a little more time to think over his sister's words, while also not wanting to force Rebecca to her feet. She looked like she found the movement either difficult or painful (or both). I turned the latch and opened the door. Standing under the porch were a blonde man and a brunette woman. They both had the typical Barnes eyes, but other than that you couldn't really tell they were related to James. Or even to each other, really. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a wide jaw. She was short with a fairly straight body - small hips and small breasts - with a narrow face.

They both looked surprised to see her. "Uh, hi," the woman said, frowning slightly in confusion.

I smiled. "Kimberly, right? And Scott?"

They nodded slowly. In unison. Okay, I was starting to see the family link a bit clearer. "Who are you?" Scott asked.

I smirked. "Well, judging by the stories Rebecca's been telling us, you should already know that," I said with a not-so-subtle look at Kimberly.

She blinked, then her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. "Y-Y-You're... You're not, are you? Oh, but you are! You're..." Her voice became hushed, as if speaking above a whisper would cause the sky to fall. " _Silverthorn._ "

I chuckled. "Unfortunately so," I said. "I'm Daphne." I held out a hand, and while Scott shook my hand warily, Kimberly was almost bouncing in her excitement as she took it.

"Oh, wow, this is amazing!" she said, the two entering the house. I shut the door behind them. "I can't believe it's you! I've done _so_ much research since all those Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. files were leaked. I-"

"I hope I don't sound like that when I get excited," an amused voice said from the end of the corridor. We all turned to see James leaning casually against the living room doorway.

I chuckled. "Now, now, what have I said about being rude?" I scolded, squeezing past the brother and sister and heading back towards him. "And also, I don't think I've ever actually seen you excited before, so I wouldn't know."

James smirked at me. "Or maybe you have, and you just don't know it because I'm so good at hiding it."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. I don't care how many years you have under your belt - you can't hide _anything_ from me."

Smirking, James asked, "Is that a challenge, Silver?" Rolling my eyes, I gave him a push, and he laughed. "I will prove you wrong one day," he said.

"I'd love to see you try."

By this point we were back in our seats on Rebecca's sofa, allowing Kimberly and Scott to enter the room. They greeted Rebecca warmly, giving her a hug from each, before settling onto the second seat.

"So would you mind explaining exactly what's going on?" Scott asked, narrowing his eyes at James and I.

Rebecca chuckled. "Well, I'm not sure if you've noticed it just yet, but the media are slightly excited about these two."

"Why?" Kimberly asked, looking confused.

"Because Daphne was an idiot and ran in front of a car to save a kid," James said, nudging me with his elbow.

I sent him a stony look. "If I hadn't, he'd have been hit."

"You still ran in front of a car."

I rolled my eyes. "What's gotten into you lately?" I questioned. "One minute you're being relatively decent, then the next you're mocking and teasing."

He shrugged. "Bucky's coming back," he said simply, and I figured that was information enough for me to understand.

"Can I see your arm?"

We both lifted our heads to see Kimberly sitting on the very edge of her seat, fiddling with her fingers and biting her bottom lip. Her eyes swam with curiosity and childlike animation.

James hesitated, before cautiously shrugging out of his jacket. I immediately averted my gaze. Don't get me wrong, I had no issue at all with James' arm, but... well, we'd had to borrow some clothes from Natasha and Steve before we left D.C. and let's just say Steve's t-shirts were _tight_. Every time James took off his jacket I couldn't help but stare at how the shirt made him look. Normally I wouldn't care and would ogle to my heart's content - and I knew James had no complaints - but there were strangers with us now, and as much as I _really_ wanted to admire the sculpted perfection that was his torso, I didn't want to do so with other people around. Especially when said people were James' own family.

Kimberly slowly got to her feet, staring at James' arm as if it were a precious jewel. She reached out to touch it, but then quickly pulled her hand back. "Oh, sorry," she mumbled. "Can I...?" James hesitated again, before nodding. Kimberly gently ran her finger along the length of his arm. Kimberly smiled. "What's it made of?"

James' brow twitched. "I don't know."

I snorted, causing everyone to look at me. "You didn't even ask about your own replacement arm? That's poor, James."

"Oh, and you did?"

I smirked. "Of course I did." I turned to Kimberly. "It's mainly made of an iron, nickel and chromium alloy called inconel. Although I understand some of the plates that were damaged too severely have since been replaced by a vibranium-based alloy."

James raised his eyebrows. "Which bits were they?"

"Uh, the whole hand, the wrist, and the elbow, I think. The bits most likely to be used in a fight."

James nodded thoughtfully.

"So you're the real deal?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow as Kimberly sat back down next to him. "You're really the Winter Soldier and Silverthorn?"

"Like I said before; unfortunately."

He furrowed his brows. "And you're James Barnes?"

"The one and only," James muttered.

"Her brother," he said, pointing at Rebecca, who was watching in amusement.

"As far as I can tell with a half-formed memory," came the reply.

"Our great-uncle?"

James grimaced. "Yes, although I'd rather you _didn't_ call me that when you introduce me to people. It makes me feel old."

I groaned. "Christ, James, I wouldn't have thought you of all people would be sensitive about your age. You're a 97 year old with the body of a 28 year old. If I were your age I'd be thrilled to be so gifted."

"She's got a point," Rebecca said with a smile.

James rolled his eyes. "I'm still waiting for the day people start calling me 'old man'."

I chuckled. "It'll be whatever day you meet Tony Stark. I hear he has a fondness for giving people nicknames."

I jumped (again) when I felt my phone ringing (again). I rolled my eyes and answered. "Steve, you knows it's been less than two hours since-"

" _Daphne, you have to get out of there!_ "

"What? Why?" The serious tone of my voice caught James' attention, and he was immediately tense.

" _The news, Daphne. You're on the news! Everyone knows where you guys are now. Including-_ "

"Hydra," I murmured. I immediately snapped into business mode, jumping to my feet and chucking James' jacket at him as I marched into the kitchen, opening and closing draws in search of as many knives as possible.

" _I managed to convince Fury to sort out a plane for you. It's at JFK airport_."

"Where'll we be going?" I asked, handing two of the five knives over to James, who wordlessly hid them amongst the folds of his clothes.

" _England. The plane is set to land in a place called Bristol._ "

I nodded subconsciously. "Okay, Steve. Thanks."

" _Be careful_."

"We will." I hung up before either of us could say a proper goodbye. I went back into the lounge and saw everyone was on their feet, looking curious or worried. "If anyone comes knocking, we were never here. You've never seen us before, except for the news or whatever. This meeting never happened."

"What's going on?"

"Hydra are after us, and my little stunt back there drew their attention to Brooklyn. They know we're here, so we have to leave." I turned to James. "How quickly can we get to JFK?"

James frowned, then said, "It's about six miles. It depends on how quickly we move. We can't flat-out run - it's too conspicuous."

"I could drive you," Kimberly suggested.

"No."

The word came sharply from both James and my mouth, and Kimberly fell silent.

I sucked in a quick breath. "Front or back?" I asked.

James hesitated, then said, "Front. I know the way from there - I don't from the back."

I nodded and turned to the others. "Look after each other, don't talk to anyone you don't know. I'll try to get Steve down here to tell you when we're safe."

They all nodded, looking deadly serious. "Don't get killed," Scott said lowly, and James and I smirked in unison. We then walked calmly out of the house, walking hand in hand along the alleyways and streets that would get us to the airport fastest.

The whole time I was keeping a close eye on our surroundings, and it wasn't until after we'd walked about four miles that I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

I squeezed James' hand twice in quick succession. It was a code of sorts that we'd created a long time ago. We didn't have to use it much, but it came in handy. James squeezed twice back to tell me he agreed with my suspicion we were being trailed. When we reached an innocent-looking street corner, James gently tugged me to a stop, taking my face in his hands and brushing his lips against mine.

Another tactic - acting like we were ignorant. "Do you know the way from here?" he asked.

"I'm sure I can find it," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Circle and regroup?"

He hummed. "Make it a long route. Meet back in fifteen."

I nodded subtly. "Got it." I smirked. "Don't get hurt, mister."

His eyes crinkled as he grinned, before he cemented his lips against mine in a bruising but passionate kiss. "Yes, ma'am," he drawled as he pulled back.

Then we let go of each other and turned away, sprinting through the thick crowds of people in opposite directions, hoping to split the force chasing us. As I ran I couldn't help but wonder if this would become a common thing. I knew Hydra wanted James and I back on their side, but I feared how they were going to achieve that, since they now knew for certain our allegiances were with each other, and no one else. It was that fear that kept me running at full speed, avoiding anyone who looked like a Hydra Agent.

Unfortunately, this seemed to be their plan.

I turned a corner and came to a sudden stop. I was facing a dead end. I spun, planning to keep running, but there were already seven Agents in front of me. They were all stocked up with guns and knives. They were expecting me to fight. I felt a smirk grow on my lips. They didn't know what they'd just gotten themselves into.


	4. 4 - Corpus Obfirmo

**A/N: I regret nothing...**

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* * *

 **4 - C** **orpus Obfirmo**

The men facing me lifted their guns, clearly expecting me to make a move. And I did. But it wasn't what they expected. I let out an exaggerated sigh and lifted my arms in a position of surrender.

The Hydra Agents all became confused, losing grasp of their complete focus for a fraction of a second. I took advantage of that time, reaching under my shirt and grasping hold of four throwing knives. I flung them forward, three sinking into the necks of the men I aimed them at. The fourth man managed to lift his gun in time to deflect the knife, though it deeply sliced his hand in the process.

The remaining three Agents began firing at me, and I had to weave around faster than I ever had before in my life in order to avoid them. I leapt onto the first man, grabbing onto both sides of his head and giving it a rough twist, snapping his neck. He fell to the ground in a disfigured heap, while I rolled forward and lunged at the next man, grasping hold of one of the knives I'd picked up from Rebecca's kitchen.

The man was ready though, using his large size to grab hold of me and kick me away. I let out a growl, sinking into a low crouch as my gaze narrowed in on the man. I lunged forward, zipping first right and then left of the man, before throwing my whole body at him, sinking the knife into the side of his neck. He let out a garble as he died, but there was a smug gleam to said eyes that made me pause. I looked down at myself, and saw that one of the throwing knives I'd initially thrown was sticking out of my stomach. I didn't feel the pain - I assumed it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins - but I knew I had to be quick in disposing of the rest of the men before blood loss made me too weak to fight efficiently.

Readjusting my hold of the bloodied kitchen knife, I spun to the side, slicing the throat of the man closest to me without batting an eyelid. I saw a silver blade arcing towards me, and managed to move just in time to avoid the worst of the blow. The blade sliced a shallow cut into my left arm, but otherwise did no real damage. I turned to the man who'd thrown the knife - my final opponent. He had a fearful but resolute expression in his eyes. He straightened out of his defensive crouch, even lowering his gun slightly.

This confused me only for a moment before my body was suddenly awash with cold. My limbs started to shake, and it became harder and harder to move them. I let out a cry of frustration as my grip on the knife in my hand failed, and the blade clattered to the ground. The man started striding towards me, a cocky grin spreading on his lips. That grin caused my vision to sharpen with redness, and I grasped hold of the throwing knife embedded in my stomach, ripped the blade from my skin, and then threw it at the man. He came to a shuddering stop, the knife stuck firmly between his eyes. Then, he fell backwards.

Groaning, and no longer able to make my fingers close tightly enough to grab one of the many discarded blades lingering around the place, I started to stumble away from the dead end, vision going hazy. I knew I had to be quick - back-up Hydra Agents would swarm the area soon. I managed to make it to the main street and almost immediately collapsed onto a civilian man who had been happily texting on his phone. Well, said phone was now covered in my blood.

"Whoa, hey, are you alright?" the man asked.

"Airport," I grunted weakly.

"Uh, I think you need to go to the hospital."

"No!" I said, as strongly as I could. "Airport. JFK. I have..." I let out a gasp as my adrenaline suddenly started to fade and the pain from both my arm and my stomach began to be felt. "Friend. He'll help me."

"Are you sure?" the man looked dubious.

I nodded weakly. "Hurry," I muttered, feeling my legs quake underneath my weight.

The man wrapped an arm around me, throwing one of my own over his shoulder, before supporting me as we began to move. I barely made it a hundred metres before darkness overwhelmed me and I tumbled into oblivion.

* * *

James was getting worried. He'd been at the airport for five minutes, having easily evaded the people chasing him, but Daphne was nowhere to be seen. She'd missed their fifteen minute deadline by three minutes, whereas normally she'd be the first to arrive.

As his eyes scanned the area, he caught sight of a man. A man carrying someone with curly, blonde hair. James took off running towards them instantly, itching to reach for a weapon but pushing the instinct aside. The man wasn't likely to be a threat if he was carrying Daphne to her destination.

James practically skidded to a halt, eyes scanning over Daphne and quickly taking into account the small slice on her arm and the deep, bloodied gash in her abdomen.

"What happened?" he demanded angrily, voice slipping into the one he used when he was the Winter Soldier.

The man visibly paled. "S-She just ran into me! Told me she had to get to JFK and that she'd have a friend waiting there. Are you him?"

James felt himself nodding, but his mind was awash with concern. "Give her to me," he said, but the man frowned.

"She needs medical help-"

"I said _give her to me_ ," James growled, narrowing his eyes.

The man practically threw her into James' arms, before quickly spinning around and hurrying away. James immediately turned and ran towards the private plane that Fury had sent for them - he'd already met the pilot. Once he was inside he draped Daphne across four of the chairs, before turning around and slamming the door shut.

"Go," he instructed the pilot, who nodded. He was a peculiar man, James had noted. His was quite a lot shorter than James, and he had a bow and quiver of arrows resting by his seat. It was unusual for an Agent - either a Hydra Agent or a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent - to go for anything other than a gun. James went back to Daphne and pushed up her shirt so he could examine the wound in her stomach. Almost instantly he became confused. It was a deep wound but with the serum in her blood she should have barely been affected by it. It should not have caused her to pass out. Concern made James reach into Daphne's pocket and pull out her phone, sliding the screen up and speed-dialling Steve.

" _Daphne?_ "

"No, it's me," he muttered, glancing at the small slice on Daphne's arm, deeming it unimportant, and then going back to her stomach wound.

" _Bucky? Is something wrong?_ "

"Well, we made it to the plane, but Daphne's unconscious."

" _Why? What happened?_ "

"I'm not really sure," James answered, brows pinching in frustration. "We were being followed, so we split up. Then when she arrived at the airport she was in the arms of a total stranger, out cold."

" _Is she hurt?_ "

"She has injuries in her stomach and on her arm but... Steve, they shouldn't have done this to her."

" _What do you mean?_ "

"We have the serum in our blood, just like you," James said. "Wounds like this shouldn't seriously affect her. In fact, she's gone through much worse and stayed conscious. I'm concerned."

Steve hummed at the other end. " _Poison, maybe?_ " he suggested.

James sighed. "Maybe," he muttered.

" _Hang on,_ " Steve said, and James could hear him moving about on the other end of the line. " _Doctor Banner is good with stuff like this. He might be able to help you._ "

"Alright." James couldn't help himself - he paced up and down the length of the plane, barely even jostling when it shuddered to life and took off, nor when it suddenly banked towards the east. He was used to standing in moving planes.

" _Uh, James Barnes, right?_ "

The new voice was unfamiliar, but James trusted it to be Doctor Banner. "Right," he said, finally moving to sit in the chair opposite Daphne. He looked down at her in concern.

" _Steve said your friend might have been poisoned...?_ "

"So far, it's the only thing that explains why she's unconscious."

" _Right. Well, most poisons have a physical effect on the body. Can you look at her fingertips, around her mouth and behind her ears to see if there is anything out of the ordinary?_ " James did as asked, taking his time just to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"Nothing," he reported grimly.

" _Okay,_ " the doctor said, before humming thoughtfully. " _Can you look at her irises for me? There might be a slight discolouration._ "

James frowned, before carefully opening one of her eyes. He had to search for a few seconds, but then he picked up on a few yellow flecks in her eye that had never been there before. "It's gone slightly yellow," he said slowly.

Banner hummed again. " _Now look at all of her injuries. If I'm right, you'll be looking for a greyish residue_."

James obeyed again, feeling his stomach and heart flip at the sight of his only companion so weak and vulnerable and cut-up. The stomach wound showed nothing, but when he ran his finger over the slice on her arm, a powdery substance came off on his finger, mixed with her blood. "Found it," he said.

Banner sighed. " _Okay. What you're looking at is a neuroleptic drug called Corpus Obfirmo. The literal translation is 'body lock'. It causes every organ in the body to freeze, creating a state of unconsciousness. It should have knocked her out instantly, even with the serum in her blood._ " Then he make a thoughtful sound. " _I suppose some of the poison could have been lost if was mixed with any of the blood she lost. It might slow down the reaction time._ "

"Will she be alright?" James asked, gently moving a lock of hair out of Daphne's face.

" _She'll be perfectly fine,_ " Banner assured him. " _The poison disperses after a while. It'll wear off and she'll wake up as if she'd just been in a natural sleep. No side-effects, no damage to the body. It's a strong sedative, but completely harmless._ "

Letting out a sigh of relief, James slouched back in his chair. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

" _Don't mention it. But, while we're talking about it... Don't treat any of her wounds until she's woken up. It might get the poison out of her system quicker if it's forced out of her body through her wounds._ "

Wincing at the thought of having to stare at the horrific hole in his girl's stomach (was she his girl? They'd never actually established exactly _what_ their relationship was, yet), James told Banner he'd do as asked, before hanging up. He tossed Daphne's phone onto the chair next to him, leaning back into the cushions and letting out a long breath. Then, with another concerned glance at his injured companion - her wounds were already starting to heal themselves, thanks to the serum - he settled in for the nine hour flight to Bristol Airport.

* * *

I groaned as I felt the inside of my body roll when the plane banked.

 _I'll be damned_ , I thought to myself. _The guy brought me to the airport after all._

I opened my eyes and lifted my head, seeing that my t-shirt was halfway up my torso and the rather obvious hole in my stomach had healed until it was no larger than the width of my finger. The scratch on my arm was little more than a memory.

I felt barely more than the slightest twinge of pain when I sat up. Glancing next to me, I couldn't help but smile when I saw James asleep across a bunch of chairs, his arm covering his eyes and his mouth slightly agape as heavy breaths whistled through his teeth.

Standing with another groan, I stretched myself out as much as possible in the small space, before wandering towards the cockpit. I knew who was there before I even saw his face - the bow resting against the wall was a bit of a giveaway.

"And Sleeping Beauty awakens," he said dramatically.

"Call me Daphne, Agent Barton," I muttered. "How far from Bristol are we?"

"Still four hours. You've been out for five. How's the other guy doing? Bucky, is it?"

"He prefers James," I said groggily. I felt like I'd been out for three times as long as I had. "He's asleep."

"Didn't know you guys even slept."

"We're no different to Steve. He sleeps."

"Touché. Well, Daphne, you might as well go get comfortable. It's a long flight."

"Sure. I'm gonna grab a beer, you want one?"

He snorted. "What about drinking and driving?"

"First of all, I don't think that works quite the same when you're in a plane rather than a car, and second of all, there is a very marvellous invention called auto-pilot."

Chuckling, Barton nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll have a beer."

"Just a warning," I said lowly, "this is a one-off. I'm _not_ gonna become your errand girl."

I headed to the back of the plane before he could answer, picked up two bottles of beer, then headed back into the cockpit. I passed Barton his drink while flopping onto the co-pilot's chair.

"So, how is it you know who I am?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Natasha," I said vaguely, hoping the lie would convince him.

He rolled his eyes. "You guys already got talking, huh?"

I chuckled. "You could say that. We're both women in what was originally a man's world - you tend to find you have stuff in common."

"I hear you and I have some similar interests, too," he said, nodding towards his bow whilst taking a sip of his beer.

I shrugged. "I prefer my dual blades, to be honest, but yeah, I can shoot."

"Well, I expect you're proficient with everything," Barton said, arching an eyebrow.

"When you've been through training and field work as long and extensive as I have, you'll know it's not difficult to become an expert with several weapon types," I said with another shrug. I then tipped my head back and downed half my beer in one. I sighed. "Such a shame I'm immune to this stuff," I muttered, staring somewhat wistfully at the bottle.

Barton chuckled. "At least you get to avoid the hangovers," he said with a smirk.

I smiled. "Yes, I suppose. Still, I'll never know what it's like to get drunk."

He raised both eyebrows in surprise. "You've never gotten drunk before?!"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I was abducted by Hydra when I was 16," I told him. "I was underage then, and believe it or not Hydra don't give alcohol to their tools."

"Not even to clean 'em?" Barton asked teasingly.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Not even then. Nah, we got cold showers and a box full of ice."

Barton frowned. "So tell me about you and James."

"What's there to tell?"

"Are you two a thing now?" I raised an eyebrow. He raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Hey, I talk to Nat too sometimes. She's my best friend."

I rolled my eyes. "That's woman spends too much time focusing on other people's love lives."

"Is that a yes?"

"Honestly? I've no idea. James and I have _something_ going on that most people would call dating or whatever... but we've never really talked about it. It just happened one day."

"When?"

Smirking, I took another sip of my beer. "The day we tried to kill Nick Fury. Twice."

"Well, I hear you actually saved his life twice."

I shook my head. "No, I saved it once. I just... didn't kill him the first time. The two things are very different."

"He still ended up not dead because of you."

I rolled my eyes. "Just get back to flying, Barton."

Barton chuckled, pressing a button on the large control panel in front of us, before standing up. "Auto-pilot," he said with a smirk, disappearing from view.


	5. 5 - Too Many Similarities

**A/N: So this one's a bit shorter... Sorry about that. Still, I hope you enjoy it :)**

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* * *

 **5 - Too Many Similarities**

We landed in Bristol just after 4am (England time). Apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to get Bristol Airport to clear one of their smaller runways in order for the plane to land, so we weren't swarmed by airport control (or whatever it was called) as soon as we got off the plane. We were met by a man wearing an orange high-visibility jacket, who greeted us with a smile.

"Welcome to Bristol," he said.

I sucked in a deep breath and smiled. "It's good to be home," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're from England?"

I nodded. "I spent much of my childhood growing up here, yeah."

He chuckled. "I can still hear your British roots, but you've got a bit of an odd accent now."

I shrugged. "I moved around a lot - to Russia and America, mostly."

He nodded in understanding, before gesturing towards a door. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your car." We silently followed him out, James slipping his hand into mine like usual. He'd fluttered over me like a concerned mother hen when he woke and found me up and about, and it took me ten minutes just to assure him that I was alright. He seemed quite shaken by everything that had happened (he explained it all to me after he calmed down), and now acted like he didn't want to let me out of his sight. Which I was totally okay with, by the way.

"So, you local?" I asked the man, happy to be talking to someone from my own country. It was odd how much I missed listening to my own accent reflected back at me.

"Yeah," he answered. "I moved to Bristol with my wife seven years ago. Before that though, I came from Leeds."

I nodded. "Fair enough. I'm from further south, myself."

"Oh? And where is that?"

"Devon," I answered with a smile. "It's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be."

The man chuckled. "I can't comment - I've never been there."

Sending him a smirk, I said, "Oh, the weather's crap, but the last time I was here, there was a lot of greenery. So, if you're into that stuff, it's like a haven."

He shrugged. "Nah, I'm more of a city man."

"You and me both," James muttered. "Unfortunately, she isn't, which means I have to be on the receiving end when she complains about the lack of trees."

"I don't complain about that!" I cried, indignant. I didn't - I knew James was just trying to make us sound like ordinary people - but I went with it anyway when he gave me a look. "Alright, fine, I complain _sometimes_. But just you wait until you see all the stars - it'll make the skies above Brooklyn looks like a blank piece of paper in comparison."

"I'll take your word for it," he mumbled.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, moving easily through the nearly empty airport with our escort. He led us out to what looked to be some kind of staff car park. He stopped with a smile, holding out a set of keys. "You're in the C3 area," he told us. "Big yellow sign - hard to miss. Have a good trip."

I nodded while James took the keys. "Thanks," I said with a grin. "Hopefully the rest of your shift goes well."

He chuckled. "I take the night shift for a reason - it's a lot quieter at this time of morning. I finish in under an hour, anyway."

Smiling, I gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking towards the yellow sign with a black 'C' painted on it. James walked beside me in silence, fiddling with the keys to the car.

"So, what do you think Fury managed to get for us?" I asked, the euphoria of being back in my home country still bubbling away in my stomach.

James sent me an amused look. "Something good, I hope."

We stopped when we reached the row of cars under C3, and James pressed the unlock button on the keys. A pair of headlights flashed a few metres in front of us, revealing which car was ours. A strange noise escaped my throat when I saw the car. "I don't believe it," I murmured. I grinned. "An Aston Martin Vanquish. It's got a V-12 engine, nearly 570 bhp and a top speed of a tad over 200 mph. Every single body panel is made of specially engineered carbon fibre."

James raised an eyebrow. "Where did you learn about cars?"

I shrugged, running a finger over the sleek body of the car. "My brother and father were car fanatics - you tend to pick up a thing or two. But, in addition to that, the Vanquish was close to the top of my 'dream cars' list."

"And you still remember everything you learnt 60 years later?"

Shrugging again, I opened the door and settled into the posh, leather seat. James joined me a second later. "I liked to go over the things I remembered while in the cell back in the 50s," I said. "It gave me something to do. Apparently, this has stuck with me."

James shook his head, before putting the key in the ignition and turning it. The engine thrummed to life, purring smoothly. I sighed, settling into my seat as James pulled out of the space.

"So where are we going?" he asked, and I sent him a grin.

"Devon's 'shadowy place'."

James chuckled. "I'm gonna need an actual name, Daph."

"Tiverton," I answered with a smile. "The town where I grew up."

"And why exactly is it called Devon's shadowy place?" he asked, flicking on the windscreen wipers as little specks of water began to land on the glass.

I shrugged. "It's how the outside world always viewed it," I answered. "I don't really know why - there's nothing really wrong with it."

James chuckled. "People are strange."

"That they are."

* * *

My home town looked exactly how I remembered it. James patiently let me wander around the town I recalled from my childhood years, not voicing a single complaint as I breezed into all my old favourite shops. He was carrying a large, black umbrella, because (surprise, surprise) it was raining. At the moment, it wasn't very windy so the rain was manageable, but I knew it could change at the flip of a switch.

"This doesn't seem so bad," James said as I ducked with him under the umbrella, holding onto his arm and decreasing the amount of space between us to as little as possible so I wouldn't get wet.

I smiled. "I said it wasn't as bad as people make it seem."

James nodded. "So, where to next?"

I hummed, before glancing up at the clock tower in the middle of the street. "I think... I want to go and see my old school," I said. "The only problem is everyone will be out for lunch."

"So?"

I laughed. " _So_ there might be people I recognise. I grew up around this time, remember? Admittedly in a different world, but lots of theories about parallel universes state that each universe is actually quite similar to the next."

"Well, regardless of whether or not you recognise anyone, that doesn't mean they'll recognise _you_."

"Hey, there might be a younger version of me in this world, too!"

Rolling his eyes, James firmly grasped the hand that was holding onto his arm, before walking back along the street towards the school. He seemed to know where he was going, but occasionally I would direct him down a shortcut. It was almost the end of the school lunch break (if I remembered correctly) by the time we final arrived, still squashed together under the black umbrella.

I took my time looking around, and James once again followed in silence, letting me take everything in. A loud chorus of laughter drew my eyes towards a bench, around which stood several different people. I felt my breath hitch as I watched them. While there were several differences, the resemblance between each of them and the friends I'd had back in my world were astonishing. I didn't care that I was staring. I didn't care that people were starting to talk about the strange man and woman standing in the middle of the main entrance area. I watched one girl, with short, blonde hair, jump onto the back of one of her friends, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

"Daphne, are you alright?"

I blinked, realising there was moisture in my eyes and falling down my cheeks, then turned to face James, who was frowning in concern. "It's her," I murmured. "This world's version of Kaia." I glanced over at the group again, and saw a few of them were now watching us watch them. I shook my head. "I can't do this," I whispered to myself, even though I knew James would still be able to hear. "I don't know why I decided to put myself through this. It just..." I closed my eyes tightly, breathing through my mouth. "It hurts, James," I finished, leaning my head against his chest.

"I know, Daphne," he murmured, pressing his cheek against my head. We were silent for a few seconds, before he said, "You might want to wipe those tears away. One of your other-worldly friends is coming over."

I sniffed, before pulling away and wiping my eyes. I then turned to see a boy with a flop of brown hair walking towards us. I sent him a watery smile.

"Hello," I said quietly.

"Uh... hi." He rubbed the back of his neck. "A few of my friends thought they recognised you guys, but of course they-"

"Didn't want to come over here and ask for themselves," I said with a chuckle, noting the familiarity of the situation. "It's alright, I understand that. I used to be the same."

He nodded slowly. "Right... So, can I ask, and please don't be offended if we got this horribly wrong, but... are you Silverthorn and the Winter Soldier?"

My eyebrows rose, before I glanced at James and gave his left arm a pointed look. Rolling his eyes, James shrugged out of his jacket, revealing his metal arm (though the bright red star was hidden under the short sleeve of his t-shirt). "This proof enough for you?" he asked with a smirk.

The boy's eyes widened as he stared at the arm, before blinking and looking away, meeting my eyes. "If I might ask, what are you doing here?"

I chuckled. "I grew up here," I told him. "I went to this school, too. Haven't been here for a while, so we decided to come and visit."

The boy's eyebrows disappeared under his long fringe. "You're from Tiverton?"

"Born and raised," I said with a smile. "I left when I was 16."

He blinked a few times. "Wow," he said at last. "I never thought such a famous person would have come from here."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not famous," I protested. "Or, if I am, it's certainly not for the right reasons."

"Right, the whole 'assassin' thing," he said, adding air-quotes as he spoke. "You're not still doing that, are you?" He looked wary now, as if just realising that we might have been there to kill someone.

James and I shook our heads. "No, we're doing our own thing now," James said. "Starting over."

"Well, in that case, let me be one of the first to wish you luck."

The boy smiled, before giving an awkward wave as he turned around and walked back to his friends. The two of us watched as they buzzed around him, their expressions varying from shocked to disbelieving as they listened to him re-tell what happened. They all looked over at us, and James and I chuckled, waved, and then turned to each other in unison.

"Good to go?" James asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think this is a bit too much. There are far too many similarities here. I'll start crying over Kaia again if I'm not careful."

"It's okay to cry sometimes, you know," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"I know," I answered. "That doesn't mean I like it, though."

"No one does. But sometimes it's the only thing we can do."

I smirked at him. "I have a feeling I'm gonna have to remind you that the first time I see you cry. You'll probably pretend nothing's wrong."

He smirked at me, placing a kiss on the side of my head. "I can't have you thinking I have a heart, doll."

I laughed. "Too late," I sang, grinning up at him. "You may have a cold, hard outer shell, but on the inside you're softer than a marshmallow."

He blinked, then rolled his eyes. "You know, I do think you just managed to rid me of all my masculinity in a single sentence."

Feigning an expression of sympathy, I patted him on the chest. "Don't worry, James; you never had much anyway." James' answering noise of indignant protest only succeeded in making me laugh again.

* * *

 **Just for the record, I researched Tiverton. The fact it's Devon's supposed shadowy place is not a lie. There are memes about it...**


	6. 6 - Declaration of War

**A/N: So I made the mistake of going to the beach the other day... Got very badly sunburnt. That was fun. Either way, it's made writing incredibly painful because I got burnt on my hands, of all places. So, I've had to wait until it died down before I could actually move my hand enough to type without it hurting like hell twice over. So a slightly longer wait that normal. Hopefully you'll like this update, though :)**

 **Big thanks to: Eryniel Alasse, AveMak, Liz10s and CheekyLittleFoxy for following/favouriting.**

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* * *

 **6 - Declaration of War**

"I hate hotels," I groaned, rolling over in the bed James and I were sharing. The bed was comfy, but the covers were far too heavy and thick, and with Mr Space Heater next to me, I felt like I was trying to sleep inside a furnace.

James let out a grunt. "I'm beginning to hate them too," he mumbled. He seemed perfectly comfortable, but because I _wasn't,_ I kept fidgeting, and so he was unable to fall asleep. He groaned and rolled over, putting his metal arm around my stomach and pulling me against him so my back was against his chest. He buried his face in my hair. "What's wrong, doll?" he asked, his voice muffled by my shoulder.

"The cover's too thick, and you're hotter than the Sahara."

He chuckled. "Thank you."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh course you would take it _that_ way."

James started gently peppering my shoulder with soft, short kisses, moving from the base of my neck to my left shoulder, before leaning on his elbow and trailing kisses along the length of my arm. He went as far as my elbow before he began to head back up. He finished by gently nipping my ear, causing a shudder to rocket down the length of my body, which hummed happily over how close he was lying to me, and in no more than a pair of boxers. I myself wasn't much better, wearing a loose tank top and a soft pair of shorts. The coolness of his metal hand seeped easily through the thin material of my top, cooling down the skin of my stomach.

"Is there anything I can do to make you sleep better?" he murmured, warm breath fanning the side of my face as my eyes fluttered slightly.

"Talk to me," I answered.

He made a noise of confusion. "Won't that keep you awake?"

I blushed slightly. "Your voice is soothing," I mumbled, trying to hide behind my own hair, but of course he just easily lifted it away from my face.

"Are you _blushing_ , Daphne?"

I grumbled, then admitted, "Probably."

He chuckled, pressing a long, lingering kiss on the side of my neck. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Surprise me."

I felt his lips curl into a smile against my skin. "Alright," he said. "So, tell me exactly what this is all about."

"You're gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart."

His smile widened as the moniker slipped through my lips. "This," he repeated. "Us." He surprised me then by sliding his tongue along the length of my neck, causing a strange mewl-like sound to escape my throat as the sensation resonated all over my body. "What exactly are we?"

"Well, I've been waiting for you to make some kind of formal recognition," I said. "Isn't that how it worked back in the 40s, Sergeant?"

He smiled, breathing in the scent of the hotel shampoo that clung to my hair. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to become involved with," he said.

I chuckled. "The same could be said for me, _doll_."

He bit my neck slightly, then said in a scolding voice, "You can't call me that - it's my name for you. It can't work both ways." James hummed, resting his chin over my shoulder. "Stick to sweetheart. I like it when you call me that."

I chuckled, turning in his arms and then poking him in the chest right about his heart. "Marshmallow," I teased.

James laughed; a single bark of laughter that could have brightened the whole room. "Hey, I never denied it, if you recall." He placed a long kiss against my lips, his own mouth soft yet unyielding, subtly controlling the kiss. He then moved his lips so they hovered by my ear. "I want to make this official," he whispered. "I want to go steady with you."

"Gosh, you're so demanding!" I said, feigning annoyance. I then pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. "Agreed," I muttered, "but only if I get equal claim over you."

He chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't let anyone else within two metres, doll."

"I'm glad." I let out a yawn.

James smirked, lying back so I could snuggle up to him. "Go to sleep. We've got all the time in the world now, remember?"

I nodded. "Goodnight, James."

"Sleep well, Daphne."

* * *

" _Authorities have put out a warning to stay on the look out for this man, but have also urged the public not to approach him if they spot him._ " I was sat on the edge of my bed, dressed lightly in a pair of jeans and a floaty tank top, while James was making use of the hotel's power-shower. In front of me was the room's large TV, where the morning news was on. " _In other news, two notorious American hitmen were spotted in a small Devon town yesterday, paying a visit to a local high school. After the event in Washington D.C. several days ago, Silverthorn and the Winter Soldier became a favourite for news channels as they reportedly fought alongside Captain America against Hydra, a group that was formed in Nazi Germany during the Second World War. They were again noted after Silverthorn saved a boy from being hit by a car in Brooklyn, but now it seems they have arrived in the UK, and were last seen visiting the town of Tiverton. It is unclear what their purpose for coming to this country is, however many people are speculating that the infamous assassin duo are now on the run from the remnants of Hydra._ "

I chuckled. "Well, you're not wrong," I murmured.

My phone started ringing, and I leaned across the mattress to pick it up off of one of the bedside tables. "Hello?"

" _You're drawing a lot of attention to yourself, Daphne,"_ Steve said.

"Hello, Steve, nice to hear from you. How are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Steve chuckled on the other end of the line. " _Bucky told me you were okay, so I figured I didn't need to ask. But seriously, I thought you two wanted to keep things on the down-low. You've already caused a stir in England._ "

"I know, I was just watching the news about us," I said with a grin.

" _Yeah, well, the media are having a field-day over here,_ " he grumbled. " _Most of the popular magazines have got you guys as their main story, and they're coming up with all sorts of strange theories about you two. Your relationship seems a popular choice._ "

I shrugged, then remembered he couldn't see me, so said, "What's the harm it could do? Things will die down in a few days and then everything will be back to normal."

" _Hydra are still looking for you guys,_ " he said seriously. " _One failed attempt is not going to stop them. We're doing what we can from here, but you're more or less on your own out there._ "

"We'll be fine. Now that James and I have both been back to our childhood homes, we're more likely to slip back into the shadows," I lay back on the bed, feeling the mattress springs groan slightly underneath my weight. "From here on out, we have no specific plan."

" _Then come back_ ," Steve suggested. " _I know you want your space, but we could really use your help over here_."

"The war against Hydra isn't going to end in a week, Steve. They spent seventy years digging their claws into just about every place they could. It'll probably take years longer to tear them- James, put some damn clothes on!" My eyes more of less popped out of my head when James sauntered out of the bathroom, hair and body glistening with water while he wore nothing but a towel (hanging precariously low, I might add) around his waist.

" _WHAT?!_ "

I couldn't help but laugh at Steve's exclamation, even while James sent me a coy smirk.

"I didn't bring a change of clothes when I went in there," James said, lifting both hands in mock-surrender and causing his towel to slip another inch.

"Some warning still would have been nice," I muttered, and he just flashed me a grin before sauntering into the next room, where we'd put all our belongings. "Sorry about that, Steve; it's probably not as bad as it sounds."

" _Honestly, Daphne, I don't want to know._ "

I chuckled again. "We'll think about coming back soon, okay?" I said. "And don't worry about us - we're watching our own and each other's backs." My phone suddenly started crackling with static. I frowned, hearing Steve's voice breaking up on the other end. "Steve? Steve!" James sent me a concerned look as he walked back into the main room, wearing a pair of faded grey jeans and pulling on a tight, black t-shirt. I'm ashamed to admitted I was _this_ close to swooning - that guy had no idea how good he looked in those shirts. Bulging arm muscles, eight-pack abs pressed against the material... It was enough to make even the straightest guy on Earth do a double take. My phone crackled again, drawing my attention away from the painfully attractive guy that was my boyfriend. "You there, Cap?"

" _You're playing with fire, little thorn,_ " a deep voice said, and I immediately sat up dead-straight, a frown in place. " _I would have thought our very best would do a better job of hiding themselves._ "

"Would you mind doing me a favour and telling me who the fuck you are?!" I cried, more or less ignoring James as he sat beside me. I could feel my heart picking up pace under my ribs.

The man chuckled. " _Oh, my dearest Silverthorn, that's not information you should be privy to._ "

"You really think I care about that now?" I growled, sending James a grateful smile when he placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "What do you want?"

" _You. Both of you, back in our hands, being the obedient soldiers you once were._ "

"Uh-huh, keep dreamin', big guy."

" _Look to your right, little thorn."_ I glanced to my right and saw only James. James with a little red dot floating above his heart. He stared down at the dot in bewilderment, before calmly standing up and moving out of sight of the window. The red dot swivelled to me.

I glanced up to see James mouthing _'keep him distracted'_ , before sneaking out of the room, no doubt to find the gunman.

"Something tells me you're not an expert in blackmailing," I muttered, leaning back on the bed. "After all, the first rule is never start with the highest threat. If you promise death first, the only things you can threaten after that are at least a step backwards."

" _But you don't care about your life, do you? Not when it is either you or him._ "

"True," I said, eyeing the red dot as it hovered unflinchingly in the valley of my breasts. "But I don't have all that much concern for his life right now." I glanced towards where James had gone, acting as if he was still there and was saying something in return to what I'd said. I smirked. "Oh, please, it's not like they could do anything to you. They trained you too well." I then started talking to the man again. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but the Winter Soldier and I have no desire to go back to you. There's a reason we rebelled in the first place."

" _Are you sure, Silverthorn?_ "

I chuckled. "Positive." The red dot suddenly jerked, moving up above my head than landing securely over my stomach. I waited a few seconds, before the light disappeared altogether. "And, by the way, you just lost one of your men."

" _Ordinary men are disposable goods. You and the Solider, however... are a whole different side of the coin. I wonder how much persuasion you'll need to come waltzing back to our hands._ "

"Nothing you can do will make us go back to you willingly, you asshole."

He chuckled. " _We'll see. Just so you know, little thorn, we don't stop before we get what we want._ "

"I guess we're about to start a big bloody fight then," I murmured, "because there's no way in hell we're going back willingly."

The man hummed on the other end of the phone, sounding far too pleased to hear this. " _All's fair in love and war,_ " he said tauntingly, before he hung up and I was left with nothing more than the dial tone.


	7. 7 - Mind Games

**A/N: So this one is a little longer than usual. Hope you like it :)**

 **Big thanks to: Becca-bug-01, chibichibi98 and ingisned for following/favouriting.**

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 **Lara Barnes: James in just a towel would give _anyone_ high blood pressure :3**

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* * *

 **7 - Mind Games**

When James came back to the hotel after I'd been sat on the bed for a minute in silence, he had a slight spatter of blood on his clothes, though thankfully the dark material made it difficult to notice for anyone untrained.

I couldn't help but let the man's voice echo through my head again.

 _All's fair in love and war_.

It was just a saying. I knew it could be that he had simply said it because it fit the situation, but an instinctual feeling in my gut told me there was more to it than that.

He was saying there were no boundaries, not that I was surprised - Hydra thought they were too far beyond the reach of ordinary men to be held back by such menial things like rules and morals. Honestly, I would have expected nothing less from the group. They played dirty. They didn't know how to get things done cleanly. It was always one or the other; dead or alive; enemy or ally.

But still, that comment stayed with me.

 _All's fair in love and war._

He was going to try to find a way to draw us in. When you have the ability to think and feel you will always have weaknesses. While in the hands of that group, James was my weakness, just like I was his. We learned to deal with it. But now we had escaped and we knew what we wanted - we had tasted freedom and I don't think either of us wanted to let go of it again. James was the only person I could say with certainty that I would chase through anything, be it the gates of Hell or a meadow full of flowers. It didn't matter - where he went, I followed. We were partners; it was what we did.

But then that word came circling back: _love_. The saying drew attention to love and war. Two extremes at opposite ends of the same spectrum. War was violent. It killed people and destroyed families and wrought entire nations with grief. Love was far more complex. It had the ability to tear a person apart from the inside more ruthlessly than a starved animal. It could be simultaneously gentle and rough. It was painful and soothing. It was _the biggest_ weakness. Because a man or woman who were too deep in love would do anything to keep their lover safe. Anything.

I glanced up at James, seeing he was leaning against the wall, watching me with concern in those vibrant pools of sapphire. I would do anything for him, I realised, blinking slowly. He was my rock, and just about the only reason I had left for staying alive. All my friends from my past were beyond reach, and the one who had come here with me died in '56. After that, it was just James and me. Forget Hydra and our missions and our targets. For six decades it was just us. Sure, we had friends in Steve and Natasha now, but the only thing we knew for certain about any of this was that we'd get through it together.

James was my rock. I would be nothing without him. I would have nothing without him. I would die without him, and I knew that with startling clarity in that moment. If he was killed, I would be following a step behind. Without him, I had nothing. I was no one.

James crouched in front of me and I blinked, breaking myself from my whirling thoughts. "You've been quiet a long time, Daph," he murmured. "Are you alright?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "Not bad, I guess," I replied. "But I've been better."

"You shouldn't think too much about what he said," James said, gently grasping both my hands in his own. "You and I both know Hydra like to use more empty threats than they'll ever admit to. And the follow-up of said threats usually involved a visit from us. They don't have that option anymore."

"Hydra have more than one option," I replied, frowning. "I'm sure we don't know about many of them. Even when working for those bastards, they were very tight-lipped." I shook my head. "Steve wants us to go back, and I'm thinking it's probably a good idea. We have no back-up out here."

James smirked. "Agent Barton is at the ready back in Bristol."

"What, did he just stay there?"

James chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but there's a payphone outside. I called him before coming back. He said he was ready whenever we were. And I suggest we move out right now."

I stared at him for several seconds, eyes flickering down every now and then to his twitching lips which seemed to want to move into a smirk. I rolled my eyes. "And let me guess," I drawled, "you've already packed everything we have."

That damned smirk bloomed faster than I could blink. "Well, I don't mean to kiss and tell, but..."

I groaned, smacking him on the arm. "You're not supposed to go rifling through a lady's clothing, James," I scolded.

He scoffed. "I've seen you in little more than your skin many times, Daph. I know what kind of underwear you wear."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "You... I... That was completely different! We were about to get frozen each time that happened, and I..." I put my head in my hands. "Never mind," I muttered into my hands, my voice coming out muffled. I sighed, lifting my head. "Let's just go, before I smack you _properly_ this time."

James' lips twitched again. "I think you might find I'd enjoy that more than you'd like."

I stared at him, then scowled. "Just go, James!"

Laughing, and clearly very pleased with himself, James ducked under the bed. I took the chance to admire the strong muscles of his back that showed themselves when his shirt rode up a few inches. I made sure to hide the fact I had been staring when he came back out, dragging two bags with him. I took mine without a word, swung the bag onto my shoulder, then left the room, leaving the door open for James to follow me. He came out a second later, our door key grasped lightly in his flesh hand.

"Fury only had the Aston hired for the day, so we've got something else for the drive back to Bristol," he said whilst locking the door. He then turned around, took my hand in his, and began walking us back down to the ground floor. It was a descent of eighteen floors, but we still decided to take the stairs.

"What have we got this time?" I asked.

"You're the supposed car expert; you'll have to tell me," he said with a cheeky smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a car expert, James," I said. "I know a few things about the one or two I take genuine interest in, that's all."

"I still reckon you know more than me," James countered.

I gave him a jab with my elbow. "Well, yeah, I _did_ grow up in this time, unlike you." I paused in the middle of a floor, looked down at the drop below, before gently tugging my hand from his and leaping over the railing. I caught the railing of another set of stairs a few floors down to stop me from getting to fast (and I may or may not have bent said railing slightly), before repeating it again. I did this until I reached the bottom floor. My arms ached from having to hold my full weight over and over, but I couldn't be bothered to descend all eighteen floors.

I looked up and saw James standing exactly where I left him. I grinned up at him, and even from so far away I could picture the expression of exasperation on his face. He held a hand out over the edge and dropped something. When I caught it, it turned out to be the key to our room. Taking that to mean I was on key-returning duty, I stepped out into the main foyer and headed towards the reception desk.

The man behind the desk, dressed in a sharp suit, looked up and smiled at me. "Hi, how can I help?"

I held up the key. "We're checking out, thank you," I told him.

"How was your stay?"

I plastered a smile on my face. "Great, thank you. Slept like a baby." It wasn't exactly a lie - babies don't sleep very long periods at a time, but I knew the saying would please him.

"That's good to hear." He started typing very quickly on the keyboard of the computer in front of him, and for a moment I saw surprise flash across his face. "You've already paid," he murmured.

I nodded my head. "Oh, yeah, I think we paid upon arrival." I was sure James paid for the room. Well, he must have done, because I knew I didn't. Or maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. paid for us to save some time.

"Thank you for your stay, ma'am," the man said, passing a small piece of paper with the details of the transaction written on it in pale grey letters.

"And thank you," I said in return. I turned around, only to find James was already waiting by the door for me to finish. With a smile, I approached him, holding up the receipt. "We're all set," I said. "Let's get out of here."

James nodded and shouldered the door open, leading the way out into the open. There was the usual cloud layer covering the sky, with the occasional hint of cerulean blue seeping through. Our car was waiting for us in front of the building. I practically purred at the sight of it.

"Fury doesn't half know how to pick his cars," I said, admiring the navy blue coat and the two white stripes.

"I'm guessing this is another of your favourites...?" James said, opening the door and sliding into the car.

I followed, admiring the plush seats. "Yeah, although I don't know any of the spec for this one - just what it is."

"And what is it?"

"It's a Ford Shelby GT500. They're pretty nifty, actually."

James turned the key in the ignition. "I'll take your word for it," he muttered. "You know, you are eventually going to have to learn how to drive."

I shrugged. "I know," I told him calmly. "I suspect I'll wait until Hydra's not quite so close to our tails."

James nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Hey, see if you can get back in touch with Steve. Get him to tell Agent Barton we'll be there before too long."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, we'll make a deal," I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket and speed-dialling Steve. "I'll learn how to drive if you get your own phone."

James laughed. "Fine."

" _Daphne?_ "

"Yeah, hi, Steve."

" _Are you alright?_ " he asked frantically. " _You suddenly cut off and I thought-_ "

"Hydra hijacked my phone," I told him. "I'm gonna need a new one."

He sighed. " _Alright_. _But you guys are okay, yes?_ "

"We're good - there was only one guy and James took care of him pretty quickly." I flashed James a wink when he glanced at me. "Do us a favour and tell the pilot we're on our way, will you?"

" _Uh, yeah, sure. Look, be careful, Daphne. If they've hijacked your phone chances are they can hear us right now. They'll be on your trail_."

"That's fine," I said. "We're just gonna have to go dark for a while. Once this conversation is over I'm chucking my phone out the window. Can't be tracked that way."

Steve sighed. " _Probably a good idea. See you later. Be safe_."

"Will do, Captain. See you in a few hours, hopefully."

" _I'll be waiting for you at the airport_." Then the Captain hung up. True to my word, I rolled down the window and threw my phone out of it with all my strength, hearing it shatter on the empty road beside the car as James expertly weaved along a winding, country road.

"You'll have to be doubly fast, Shadow," I said, leaning back in my chair. "No doubt Hydra will be on our tails by now. Anonymity is no longer an option."

James smirked, gripping the wheel slightly tighter. "I'd say this car has a little more to give." And then he pushed his foot down on the pedal and the car accelerated violently.

I let out a laugh. "Now _this_ is my kind of driving!"

We drove like that for just under an hour, going through busy towns and quiet villages alike as we headed back towards Bristol. The journey was silent, but both of us were comfortable with it like that. Occasionally I'd catch myself humming a mindless tune and stop abruptly, and each time James would send me a look of amusement. The hour marked the limit, though. We rounded a corner at James' thrilling high speed, only for there to be a large Land Rover coming in the opposite direction, almost as fast.

"JAMES, LOOK OUT!"

Our two cars collided, and the Shelby flipped up onto its roof. I managed to get my seat belt off, before I had my hand grabbed and I was tugged against James' body. I held onto him tightly as the Shelby crashed onto the ground, the roof caving in. I smacked my head against the dented metal and immediately was swarmed by blackness.

* * *

James was terrified. Not for himself, so much, but for Daphne. After the accident, neither of them had been in any position to resist the two dozen soldiers that surrounded them. James had been knocked out then, and woke to find himself in a small, concrete cell with Daphne still out of it. Her arms were straining so much it looked like they were going to be ripped right out of their sockets. James jolted slightly when Daphne let out a groan, wincing.

"Silver!"

She slowly lifted her head and frowned when she saw that James was tied to the wall opposite her. Except while she was shackled to a wall, he was chained to it, and had at least some free movement. He couldn't get further than three feet away from it though, and so couldn't get within seven feet of her.

"Ouch," Daphne grumbled. "Maybe going so fast wasn't the best idea in the world."

"Ah, you're awake," a chilling voice said, and the two assassins lifted their gazes to find a man wearing a monocle staring at Daphne with a sadistic grin. From across the room, James saw a brief flash of recognition in Daphne's eyes when she looked at the stranger. "It took you a while."

"I'm just sorry it didn't take longer," she grunted in reply. "I'm amazed you haven't wiped us both yet."

He shrugged. "We've learned that no longer works. You've become too entwined with each other's lives, and so the memory wipe has been rendered useless. No, I've come up with another way to make you cooperate."

Immediately fear struck James' heart, and he struggled harder against his chains. His metal arm whirred and clicked, but not even that was strong enough to break free.

"Fascinate me," Daphne drawled in a condescending tone. But the man just smiled and stepped to the side, revealing a young woman with soft, brown hair. A strange red mist hovered around her hands. Daphne's eyes widened in shock and, once again, recognition. "Oh, crap," she grumbled, before the girl sent a wave of the red mist towards her. James could do nothing but what as Daphne's eyes turned a crimson red and her body fell slack, causing more pressure to be put on her shoulders.

"What have you done to her?" James asked with a snarl, wrenching at his chains again, even though it only succeeded in hurting him more. He didn't care. The pain helped him focus.

The men chuckled. "The mind is a fragile thing in the right hands. It can be shown things. Things that make people crack. Daphne is currently living through her worst nightmare."

As if on cue, a whimper escaped Daphne's lips. Her body was shaking and pulling away from the wall, only to be held in place by the shackles. Her eyes were open wide, and her face formed an expression of sorrow and hatred. But, oddly enough, there was no fear.

James jumped slightly when her body jerked forward, her shoulder making a sickening noise when it finally popped out of place. The pain seemed to snap her out of her dream, and she let out a cry as her dislocated shoulder registered in her mind.

She started spewing curses in Russian that would make even the worst of sailors blush, but James couldn't help but feel proud of her ability to withstand whatever tortures they placed on her. Eventually she calmed down enough to speak normally. "You know," she murmured, her voice sounding strained, "it would probably be best if you didn't let me see her first, because I knew then what to expect." She groaned when she shifted.

The man frowned. "She has never before been shown to the open; how did you-"

"You're a member of Hydra," she snapped impatiently. "Surely you know. Or have you never read Christopher Pierce's files from when Kaia and I both arrived?" She sneered. "I know more than you think," she hissed. "One day, you'll see just how bad that is for you."


	8. 8 - Experiments

**A/N: Okay, so a much longer chapter this time. And, good news! I finished my last exam today, so that won't get in the way of writing and posting. Hurrah! Okay, well, this chapter is a bit darker than many others, so let me know what you think :)**

 **Big thanks to Le03725 and klaineluvr4ever for following/favouriting. Thanks guys :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Eryniel Alasse: Heh, they're buddies with the Avengers. They'll be fine ;)**

* * *

 **8 - Experiments**

The man - Wolfgang von Strucker, if I remembered rightly - stared at me for a long time. I refused to back down. The thing I'd been forced to see would, ordinarily, have been terrifying. But I knew it was no more than an illusion, and with that mind-set I did some digging.

In the illusion a girl was brought into the room - a blonde girl. Kaia's parallel twin, as it were. I was given a choice - kill her, or kill James. In real life, it would have been a much harder choice to make. But since I'd known it wasn't real, I'd taken the gun I was handed and had fired it without hesitation into Strucker's heart. This revealed the locations of the nine men hiding from sight in the real world. The unexpectedness of my actions meant I knew what I'd seen would have been accurate. There would have been no time to change it. I also knew the man had absolutely no protection from anything.

I was roughly snapped out of my thoughts when a hand hit my cheek. I heard James let out a fierce snarl in response, but I couldn't help but chuckle. The hit barely even stung. Either the guy didn't know how to hit, or he wasn't very strong. Both would be helpful.

He grasped hold of my hair and slammed my head against the wall, causing black spots to momentarily flash in front of my eyes. "You claim to know about this girl," he snarled. "Do enlighten us."

I glanced at the girl who was frowning at the floor. I wondered how far she could see into my head. "Her name is Wanda Maximoff," I said, and her eyes snapped to mine in surprise. I kept eye contact with her as I continued. "She has a twin brother - Pietro Maximoff. They were involved in the bombings of their home when they were ten, and in those bombings their parents were killed. After a while they came here, volunteering for your experiments to make them enhanced." I grinned. "They are the only ones who have thus far survived, am I right?"

Strucker looked bewildered as he stared down at me. Then he scowled, whirled on the Scarlet Witch and snarled at her in their native tongue, before storming out angrily.

Wanda turned to me instantly. "How do you know that?"

I felt my tone soften. "You were waiting in the rubble for three days before they got you out," I murmured. "Three days you waited with an unexploded bomb mere feet from where you and Pietro had taken shelter." I smiled softly, seeing her stunned expression. "He has a picture - a little picture that he takes out and looks at every day."

Wanda's face turned hostile. "Who are you?!" she demanded. "How do you know this?"

I sighed, then let out a growl when my shoulder twinged. "It's complicated and you probably won't believe me," I said. I frowned. "Can you not see inside my head and find out for yourself?"

Slowly, Wanda shook her head. "Your mind has a block too strong for me to penetrate," she said. She nodded at James. "So does he. I can only plant images - I cannot search your minds."

I huffed. "Well, suffice to say I have a long and very complicated past which gifted me with knowledge I _really_ shouldn't have."

"What do you-"

"Trust me, you _don't_ want to know," I murmured, unconsciously thinking ahead to Sokovia and Ultron and Pietro. She wouldn't want to be traumatised by the knowledge her twin brother would be killed within the next year or so, and so I knew I couldn't tell her. Maybe closer to the time, if I was even still around then, I could find some way to warn her, but I had to think about it closely. Pietro died to save Barton. In the version that I knew, it would have to be one or the other. So I'd have to come up with a fool-proof alternative, because, frankly, I didn't want either of them to die. I glanced up at the girl and frowned slightly. "Are we in Sokovia?" I asked her.

Wanda blinked in surprise, glanced nervously at the shut door, then shook her head slightly. She sighed, before moving to sit leaning against the wall. James and I exchanged curious, confused looks, before directing them towards her. She smiled slightly. "I've been instructed to ensure you don't try anything," she told us.

"If we could do anything, we wouldn't bother waiting until we were alone," James grunted, tugging against his chains again.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You have that much confidence in your abilities?"

"Even when we worked for them, Hydra stilled feared what we were capable of," I muttered, trying to shift so there was no pressure on my shoulder. I felt my eyes widen when a stream of red mist floated around my shoulder, before letting out a cry when the power caused my socket to wrench back into place. I swore colourfully under my breath in English, Russian, and Italian (I knew only very basic Italian, but swear words were part of those few words I knew). James was lightly chuckling under his breath. "I'm glad my pain amuses you," I snarled at him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Your language is what is amusing," he replied easily. "It isn't my fault the two often coincide."

I shot him a glare, cursing him under my breath even though I knew his enhanced ears would hear. His shoulders continued to shake with his silent laughter.

Strucker barged back into the room, making us all turn our heads sharply his way. He was accompanied by thirteen armed soldiers. He looked at us, eyes shifting from me to James and back again. "If either of you tries anything, you get shot. You understand?" The threat was clearly aimed at us about the other. I didn't care if I got shot, just as I was sure James didn't care if he did. But I hated seeing him in pain, and I wouldn't allow him to get hurt on my behalf. So I glowered but nodded my head.

Two of the armed men stepped forward, each with a ring of keys in their hands. While the largest one unlocked James' chains, the smaller of the two unlocked my shackles. I could feel my knees protesting at the sudden weight put on them, but while they were incredibly shaky, they didn't give out under the sudden pressure from above.

James and I practically gravitated towards each other as soon as the fourteen men started to escort us to... well, wherever it was we were going. He slid his metal hand into my own, giving it a tight squeeze before letting go again when he got nudged in the back by a gun. He shot the man wielding the gun a terrifying glare, but nonetheless stepped away from me so there was three feet of space in between us.

We must have been quite the spectacle, walking down the hallways with Strucker and six men in front of us, and seven behind us.

We were led into a room with two identical tables set up in the middle. Instantly James and I recoiled, trying to pull away from the tables, but there were guns pointed at us instantly, reminding us of what would happen if we fought back.

For a moment, part of me wondered whether death would be the easier option for us both.

James was the first to hesitantly step towards a table, with me following a second later. _Even through the gates of Hell_ , I reminded myself. I'd follow him anywhere.

Strucker was looking far too pleased with himself as eight men stepped forwards to strap our limbs tightly to the tables, before all thirteen guards left the room, leaving us alone with Strucker. But only for a moment, because after just a few seconds the door was opened again, and a man in a white lab coat walked in, carrying two vials of pale blue liquid.

I sent a mildly panicked glance at James, but he just gave me a reassuring half-smile and a nod, telling me it'd be okay. I figured they couldn't do much worse than take our memories away, and Strucker had already said he knew that wouldn't work. Even so, I could feel my heart rate increasing with each second that passed as I watched the man in the coat empty the vials into two syringes. What were they doing to us?

I couldn't help but shift away from the man as much as possible when he came towards me with a needle in his hand, but there was only so far I could go when all of my arms and legs were pinned down. I winced when the needle was roughly inserted into the base of my neck, before a second later the uncomfortable sensation of the liquid entering my blood assaulted me.

Before he had even reached James, barely a metre away from me, a drug-induced sleep pulled me into darkness.

* * *

 _I was in a familiar place, but I didn't know where it was. As I walked around, I noticed a door to my left, leading inside a large, concrete building. There was nothing else to see, so of course I went inside. It was dark. I had no light, but that was fine - I was used to wandering around in nothing but blackness. I heard a noise to my left and made my way through a doorway. A single window, through which bright sunlight streamed, was placed in the wall. A man with grey hair was tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth and a look of terror in his eyes._

 _Normally, I'd have felt pity for him. I'd have sliced through his binds, untied his gag and let him go._

 _But he was no ordinary man._

 _He was Christopher Pierce._

 _Still, this would be so much more satisfying if I could hear him plead for his life, so I grabbed a knife that was tied to my thigh and sliced quickly through the gag, cutting into his skin at the same time._

 _"You were loyal to us!" he cried immediately, pulling against the restraints pinning him to the chair. "You were loyal to me."_

 _"For a time, perhaps," I murmured, moving to circle him and watching as he desperately tried to keep me within his line of vision at all times. "But then you killed my best friend, and introduced me to the Winter Soldier. You lost every ounce of loyalty I ever had for you after that moment, even if I couldn't remember what you'd done to lose it in the first place." I placed my mouth by his ear and hissed, "You're pathetic."_

 _He let out a strange mix between a whimper and a curse. "What are you going to do to me?"_

 _"You know," I said at length, toying with the knife in my hands, "I once promised myself I'd get revenge for what you did to Kaia. Of course, you died before I had the chance to strike. But that doesn't mean I can't know how you'd have reacted, how you'd have pleaded for your life, how you'd scrape up the excuse that you had a_ son _who was waiting for you at home." I tutted, before slamming the knife into the chair, smirking with satisfaction when I saw the terror in his eyes when he noticed I'd placed it mere millimetres from his 'sacred area'. "This is just a dream," I muttered, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to make the most of it."_

 _"I'm begging you, please. Don't!"_

 _I sneered, yanking the blade from the chair and pressing it against his throat. "You killed my best friend!" I shouted, taking sick pleasure in seeing him flinch._

 _"No!" he cried, and despite how desperate I knew he was, I could also tell he was being honest. "No," he repeated, this time more quietly. "Dremora didn't die. We thought she did - her heart stopped! - but she just reacted... differently... to the serum. It destroyed most of the neural pathways in her brain, leaving her almost completely paralysed, but... they started to repair themselves after a few hours. But she started to over-repair. Parts of her body that didn't need fixing were given additional cells. She became... warped. Skin started to grow between her arms and her body. Her hair kept falling out." He shook his head. "She was like a child - she looked to us for help and guidance. A-And we-"_

 _"And you took her and trained her to kill all over again," I snarled, pressing the knife closer so a dribble of blood escaped his neck. He swallowed, eyes whizzing about frantically._

 _"W-We hid her away. She was a mess - even with all the years and training we provided, she always acted like a child. We could never show the world what we failed to do."_

 _"Why didn't you just kill her?"_

 _"She was useful," Pierce said, looking down. "People feared her because of how different she was. She has become a myth now - the Wings of Death. The people of Spain, in particular, are truly terrified of her."_

 _"So you turned her into a nightmare," I hissed, before stepping back. "Where is she now?" Pierce shook his head, saying nothing. I smiled. "Never mind," I sung, playing with the knife again, "I'll find her myself." And then I threw the knife sharply at him, watching with satisfaction as it sunk into his skull, right between his eyes. The black abyss began to engulf me again. I fell willingly into its embrace, knowing the darkness was my deserved punishment._

* * *

I woke up peacefully; easily. I felt like I should have been aching all over, because that's how I usually felt after waking up from Hydra's experiments, but there was a noticeable lack of pain of any kind. Frowning, I opened my eyes. I was in a cell. Not the one I'd been in when we first got here, but a single cell with bars and the whole enchilada. I saw James was still unconscious, lying on the floor of the cell next to mine.

After having to determinedly will my body to move, I managed to crawl over to the bars that separated us. I stuck my hand through a hole in the bars and gently stroked his face. He twitched slightly, but wasn't roused. I tried tapping the side of his face, with the same result. Sighing, I leaned limply against the bars of my cell, not even bothering to test the sturdiness of the bars. I knew there wasn't a chance in hell that Hydra would put us inside cells that we could so easily escape out of. Besides, whatever they'd put into my system still hadn't completely worn off, so my limbs felt like jelly. If I couldn't even stand up, I had no chance of utilising my full strength to pull some metal bars off a damn wall.

As I waited for James to wake, my mind drifted back to my dream. Was it all true? Was Kaia really alive? Sure, if it was true, chances were she wouldn't remember me, and seeing her in such a significantly dehumanised form would be the most disorientating thing I'd ever seen, but she'd always be my _parabatai_. And if there was even the slightest chance she was still alive, there wasn't anything anyone could do to stop me from searching for her.

A slight groan caused my eyes to fly towards James, who slowly pushed himself into a seated position. He frowned, looking around him until his eyes landed on me. He instantly shuffled to the bars, before slipping his hand between the metal and lacing his fingers with mine.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I nodded. "I think so," I replied. "Did you have any dreams while we were out?"

He nodded, looking uncertain, like he wasn't sure he wanted to tell me what he'd seen. "I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me in as much detail as you can."

I blinked, then nodded slowly. "Alright."

"What happens in Sokovia?"

I panicked for a second. "Why?"

"I saw something," he muttered, frowning. "It looked like... a raid of some kind, in the snow. The Avengers - every single one of them - were racing towards a base."

"Steve was on a bike, Nat and Barton were in a Jeep, and the rest were using their respective modes of transport," I finished dully.

James stared at me, then nodded. "Right. So you know what this is?"

I sighed. "It's the start of what my world called the Age of Ultron. A series of events that lead to the creation of a killer robot, a massive robot army, and a whole city that is turned into a meteor." I shook my head. "It's not pretty, I warn you now."

Tightening his hold on my hand, James glanced down at our entwined fingers. "What about you?" he asked. "What did you see?"

"I saw Christopher Pierce," I answered, feeling my voice harden with the same burning hatred as always. "He told me..." I cut myself off. Saying it out loud would only make it seem more real; make me more hopeful it might actual be true. Could I do that to myself? Allow myself such hope? Chances were I'd be horribly disappointed.

"What?" James urged gently, tracing the lines on my hand with a calloused finger.

"He told me that Kaia is still alive."

His head snapped up, and he looked shocked. "Alive? But I was there - I saw her heart stop."

I shrugged. "The Pierce in my dream said the neurones in her brain were almost entirely wiped out, but the serum helped them to heal. She was forced back into existence, only with a few... _mutations_. And a serious case of brain trauma, apparently."

"And do you believe that? That Dremora is still alive somewhere?"

"I honestly don't know," I admitted. "I thought it was all complete bullshit until you told me what you saw - something I'm certain will happen. Is it... possible?"

James sighed. "I'm sorry, Daph, but I'm not the person you should be asking."

I let out a breath, slumping in defeat. "I know," I said. "And it's probably nothing. It's just-"

"Now the thought's in your head, it's not getting out any time soon," James finished, nodding. "I know how you feel. But for what it's worth, I wouldn't-"

James was cut off by a low-toned explosion, and the whole building shook. I perked up. "An attack," I muttered. "Do you think...?"

James shrugged. "It's possible. Did you have your phone on you in the car?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was in my pocket. But I threw it out the window, remember?"

"Maybe it had a tracking device on it that led them to some other Hydra Agents," suggested James, pulling his hand away and standing up somewhat shakily, moving towards the metal vent in the wall and pressing his ear against it, while pressing his flesh hand to the concrete wall. "That's definitely not Hydra artillery," he said, moving back to me. "The blast range is too small."

I stared up at him. "How could you possibly tell that just by listening?"

He chuckled. "I went to war, doll. You learn things. In this case, you can work out the destructive power of a grenade type by listening to its pitch, the length of the sound, and the strength of the vibrations that reach down here."

"Do you think it's Steve?" I asked, taking his hand in mine once he was comfortably seated again. The warmth of his skin was like a balm to my frantic thoughts.

James chuckled. "I'd honestly be surprised if it wasn't," he answered, squeezing my hand gently in his. We waited with eager anticipation, listening intently to the muffled sounds of explosions. The freedom was so close now I could taste it on the tip of my tongue. And I _loved_ it.


	9. 9 - Night Terrors

**A/N: So this one is a little shorter than the last couple have been, but there's a cute little Steve/Bucky moment, so I hope you like it nonetheless :)**

 **Big thanks to: doctor3378, Hearts Tempo, LiadanAlice and MaMZg67 for following/favouriting. Thanks, guys :3**

 **No reviews this week, which is fine, although it's nice to see what you guys are thinking. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

 **9 - Night Terrors**

It must have been at least twenty minutes before the blasts stopped, and by that point James and I were growing impatient. Both of us were restless, wanting nothing more than to get out of Hydra's hands.

It was strange how antsy we both were, but I supposed we got into the habit of being able to do whatever we wanted. Even though being locked in a room was familiar, I was now in the situation where I utterly despised it, rather than just not giving a damn, as it had always been with Hydra.

After a further six minutes and nineteen seconds (I was counting - I had nothing better to do to distract me, and in a way it kept me from going insane), the door leading to the cell room exploded, showering us with dust and pieces of concrete.

"God, you couldn't have made _more_ mess, could you?" I snarled in irritation, even as I stumbled to my feet and wiped myself down.

"My apologies, Lady Daphne."

The formality made me pause, and I looked up to see a rather bedraggled Norse god standing in front of me.

"You're Thor," I said, and he smiled.

"I am indeed. We have come to get you out of here." He held up a set of silver keys, wearing a smug grin. He then swiftly unlocked our cells, smacking us both on the backs as we passed him. I sent him a small glare, my still-tender shoulder moaning in protest, before James and I started scoping the place for any weapons. We found a few guns, but neither of us managed to locate our personal weapons.

"I'm actually gonna miss those knives," I muttered as I checked to make sure the gun hadn't gotten any dust in it during the blast. There was nothing, thankfully. "In a way, they had sentimental value."

"They're just weapons, Daph. You can always get some new ones," James murmured, shaking out a rather significant amount of dust from his ammo clip. He then jammed the clip back into place, switching off the safety.

I glanced around as we blindly followed Thor through the corridors, looking for any sign of an attack. But there was no sign of life apart from the occasional unconscious body lying around. I picked up a knife from the first man we passed, before systematically slicing the throats of each body. The more Hydra Agents we took out, the less would be able to come back and bite us in the ass. I ignored Thor's slightly disapproving frowns. James didn't seem at all surprised, though he didn't help me.

I let out a whistle when we got outside. We were in a forest of tall oak trees, and when I looked back at the Hydra base, I saw that the roof was covered in an aerial image of trees to keep it hidden from anyone above.

"This must have been difficult to find," I commented as Thor plundered unwavering into the treeline with James and I following.

"For the man of iron, it was little but child's play," Thor replied.

By my side, James suddenly lifted his gun and fired a short stream of bullets. I followed the point of the gun barrel in time to see a Hydra Agent fall from the branches of a tree. "If he saw us, chances are he'll have sent a warning ahead," James said, glancing uneasily around, and I did the same, grasping my gun a little tighter. "We have to move quickly."

"Steve and the Falcon have been on recon, but there is a car waiting for us in about half a mile," Thor said, and I noticed a new tension to his broad shoulders.

"So, where exactly are we?" I asked, looking around me at the rather picturesque landscape. In a gap in the trees I could see a lake, or at least a big body of water.

"I forget the name of where we are exactly, but I believe the Falcon said it was in the land of Northumber."

I raised my eyebrows. "Northumberland? Blimey," I murmured.

James sent me a quick glance. "What?" he asked.

"We're in one of the northernmost corners of England," I said. "A few miles further north and... Well, welcome to Scotland, basically. We were taken to the complete other end of the country."

James frowned. "I had no idea Hydra was even stationed in the UK."

"Neither did I," I muttered, "but, then again, where _haven't_ they dug their claws?"

"True enough." He frowned. "What about Sokovia?" James asked. "Isn't that where you thought we were?"

"It's where Wanda was born and raised," I answered idly, eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. "I didn't realise she'd ever been moved away from there."

James nodded thoughtfully, lowering his gun as we stepped out of the trees and into the sight of a black Mitsubishi Evo X. Thor turned to us, holding out a set of keys that looked ridiculously small in his large hand. James took them from him without a word.

"You have been instructed to go to one Carlisle Airport," he said. "It will be a drive of over an hour, I was told."

"And what about you?" James asked, putting his gun on his back. "How will you get back?"

I chuckled. "James, meet Mjolnir," I muttered, before slapping Thor on the shoulder in thanks and heading towards the car. I didn't need to look back to know when Thor had upped and left. Even so, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see James caught off guard. Turning back, I saw him staring at the sky in clear shock, mouth slightly parted as he tried to comprehend what he'd just seen.

Laughing to myself under my breath, I move to stand next to the car while waiting for him to unlock it (I should have taken the keys). While I waited, my mind drifted back to Hydra. What had they pinned us down for? What had they done to us while we were unconscious?

"Are you okay?" James asked, making me blink away the haze in my mind.

I sent him a smile. "Fine," I said. "Just thinking."

James nodded. "Come on," he said. "We don't want to be here when those bastards finally show up."

* * *

Sam, Steve and Thor were already waiting when James and Daphne finally arrived at the airport, the sleek black car splattered with mud and dust. Steve gave them both a cursory once-over to make sure they were okay (James assumed), before leading the way into the plane.

From the cockpit, Clint Barton turned and grinned. "So you guys finally decided to rock up, huh?"

"Not in the mood, Barton," Daphne snarled, looking like she was being weighed down by a ten ton wall. She slumped into one of the seats and seemed to barely even notice when James sat himself beside her. Neither did she react much when he pulled her gently against him. Her only reaction came when she let out a soft sigh and then rested her head on his prosthetic shoulder, seeming not to care about the cold metal. He watched as she quickly fell into sleep. Whatever Hydra had done to her, it seemed to make her energy drain from her faster than water from a sponge.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, sending Daphne a concerned look.

James frowning slightly. "I don't know," he admitted. "When Hydra go their hands on us they... did something to us. Neither of us know what, but whatever it was, it's probably what's caused her sudden tiredness. She'll be okay."

"What happened?" Steve asked, the careful tone of his voice suggesting he wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer.

James winced slightly, recalling with a painful sensation in his gut the twisted expression on Daphne's face when that girl - Wanda - had invaded her mind. "Hydra are attempting to get us back on their side," he muttered. "But they're trying new techniques, now that they know the mind wipe no longer works well enough." He shook his head. "I'd rather not think about it," he said lowly, glancing down at Daphne when he felt her hair tickle his arm. With a small, tender smile, he gently tucked the lock of hair behind her ear.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look at anyone that way," Steve mused, and James sent him a confused expression. The Captain smiled. "Like she's the most important thing in the world."

"She is," James said without hesitation. "She was all I had for half a century, Steve. I..." He cut himself off, pursing his lips.

"You love her," Steve said softly.

James let out a long breath. "I don't know," admitted the assassin. "I don't know what love feels like."

Steve chuckled. "I think you do, Buck. And I think you've loved her for a very long time already."

"What makes you say that?"

"She accepted you for who you were inside, not who you were on the outside," Steve said, and his eyes became slightly glazed, as if losing himself in a memory. "Even when everyone else in the world scorned you for what you had no choice but to be, she stood by your side. No matter what." He smiled softly. "I know how that feels, Bucky. I've lived it. The moment she looked at you without disgust in her eyes, the moment she opened her arms to let you in, a part of you gave itself to her." Steve placed a hand over his chest, directly above his heart. "She's the only person you'll ever entrust it with," he said lowly, so Sam and Agent Barton wouldn't hear from the front. Thor was in the back, scrounging for some alcohol, if his discontented murmurings were anything to go by. "Don't make the mistake I did and wait to tell her. You don't know what you might miss. You never know when you might have your last chance."

James stared at his friend, frowning as a memory tugged at the back of his mind. A brief flash of a woman with dark hair and cherry lips, wearing a red dress that hugged her form nicely, appeared in front of his eyes, but he couldn't think of the name. "The woman you loved," he found himself asking, "who was she?"

Steve sighed through his nose. "Her name was - _is_ \- Peggy Carter. She was a member of the Strategic Scientific Reserve team. Unlike most of the other dames back then, she didn't spend most of her time wearing dresses and dancing." There was a nostalgic smile on the blonde's face. "No, she was an Agent. She too fought in the war, in her own way. She was..." Steve sighed. "She was amazing, Buck. She was smart, and funny, and beautiful, and... And she was the first woman I ever met to look beyond the sickly, skinny punk I was before the serum."

"I'm sorry," James murmured, unconsciously tightening his hold on Daphne.

Steve frowned in confusion. "What for?"

"I'm sorry that you had to go through losing her."

"She's still alive."

"But she got married, right? Got married, had kids, grew old. And none of it was with you. You lost your chance with her, and for that, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Buck."

James snorted. "I never said it was." He shook his head. "But you still never deserved that kind of pain. I don't remember as much about you as either of us would like, but I do know that if anyone in the world were to deserve some happiness, it'd be you. And it was taken away from you."

Steve gave him a small smile, then shrugged. "It's not that bad," he said. "I've got new friends. And I've got you back. That's good enough for me."

"You still deserve better."

"Maybe I don't want better," Steve said with a grin. "Maybe I'm perfectly happy right now."

James laughed. "If you were, you wouldn't be secretly wishing you had your girl back."

"She was never my girl, Bucky," Steve said with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

"In your head she was, and that's what matters most." James became serious. "Don't just settle with 'alright', Steve," he stated lowly. "You need to aim higher. You have the power to make yourself the happiest guy alive, but right now, you're choosing not to do it. Stop holding yourself back, pal."

Steve blinked. "You called me 'pal'," he said in awe. "You haven't called me that since-"

"I know," James cut in. "Honestly, it felt a little weird to say out loud." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess the 40s are being sucked from me."

Steve chuckled. "Oh, trust me, it's all still there. Old habits die hard, and all that."

James opened his mouth to respond, but then Daphne shuddered. He frowned and glanced at her in concern, seeing her whole body was taught, and her hands were balled into fists. Her face was also pressed into a deep frown. "Daphne?" he murmured softly, shaking her. He was shocked when her eyes shot open and she launched herself at him, pushing him back and straddling him with her hands pressed firmly against his throat. He could feel his lungs ache almost instantly, but he didn't so much as twitch with the desire to fight back. After ten seconds of being completely unable to breathe, he felt Daphne's hold on him slacken slightly.

His eyes moved to meet hers, and in a flash a look of horror crossed her face and she jumped away from him, pressing herself against the far wall, breathing heavily, looking completely distraught.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out. "Gods, James, I'm so sor-"

"Don't apologise," he said sharply, standing slowly. He knew that moving too fast would cause her to spiral into a state of panic even worse than the one she was currently fighting her way through. "It's fine. We're both okay." After a minute, Daphne's breathing started to slow, and she pressed a hand to her chest. He looked at her curiously, and when she finally managed to drag her eyes up to meet his, she nodded once. " _Do you want to talk about it?_ " James asked in Russian.

She shrugged weakly. " _I was just reliving the scene Wanda forced me to go through. I'll be okay. I know it wasn't real._ "

" _If you ever need to talk, I'll be here._ "

Daphne's eyes softened, and she smiled weakly. "I know, James," she muttered. "Thank you."


	10. 10 - 8,450 Dresses

**A/N: For some reason, I had a LOT of fun writing this chapter. It's a light-hearted one, so I hope you like it :)**

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 **LaraBarnes: Hopefully you'll like this one just as much :)**

* * *

 **10 - 8,450 Dresses**

"It doesn't exactly scream 'home, sweet home', does it?" I stated dryly as I stared up at the obnoxiously tall building standing in the middle of Manhattan.

"It's certainly a bit much," Steve said, following my gaze. "But, then again, it's owned by Tony Stark. And it's better than it used to be."

"Well, yeah - it doesn't have his name written in big, bold letters."

Steve laughed. "Don't tell _him_ that."

"I think I just might," I said with a crooked grin. "That guy _needs_ someone to tell it to his face."

Shaking his head, Steve began to lead the way towards the building. Thor, of course, used his hammer as a shortcut and just flew up to the penthouse suite. The rest of us lowly mortals settled for walking and using the elevator. I knew that Steve noticed how uncomfortable James and I were in the small, confined space, but I was glad he didn't call us out on it. Thankfully, Stark's technology made the trip to the top floor go quickly.

The penthouse was exactly as I remembered it looking back in my world. Well, I wasn't really sure if it was my world anymore, since, even though I was born there, I'd spent far more time in _this_ world. Honestly, my old world was the one that felt like the story, not the other way round.

"Bucky, Daphne," Steve said, breaking me from my musing, "this is the rest of the team. That's Bruce Banner." Banner sent us both a semi-genuine smile. "And-"

"Don Juan DeMarco," Tony Stark said with a terrible Spanish accent, bowing low.

I couldn't help but laugh, happy to know that I actually understood what the hell he was talking about. "The world's greatest lover," I added, my Spanish accent far more realistic than his, though still pretty poor. I rolled my eyes. "God, Stark, could your head get any bigger?"

Stark stared at me for a long time, before his face split into a wide grin. "She understands the reference!" he declared loudly, before pointing at me. "I like you."

"I'm so pleased," I muttered sarcastically. "Well, despite everything, it's nice to finally meet the man of iron, I guess. Although, and correct me if I'm wrong, your suits _aren't_ actually made of iron."

His grin widened. "Yep, she's a keeper," he said.

I rolled my eyes, before directing my gaze towards a man who _looked_ familiar, but whose identity was stuck behind a wall for some reason. "And you are?"

"James Rhodes," he answered easily. "Iron Patriot."

I stared at him long and hard, before muttering, "War Machine's better."

Tony laughed, looking like a kid at Christmas. "We're have you been all my life?!" he asked, moving in to no doubt give me a hug. However, as soon as he was in reach, I grabbed hold of his wrist and flung him over my shoulder, pinning him on the floor with my knee. Tony blinked a few times, clearly not expecting the move.

"I don't like hugs," I told him lowly. "Bear that in mind in future."

" _You don't seem to mind it when I hug you,_ " James stated casually.

I rolled my eyes, standing and pulling the billionaire to his feet. " _Somewhat different circumstances, I would say. For one thing, you're my boyfriend, therefore you get certain privileges. He does not. For another, I've known you since the 50s._ "

James chuckled, shrugging innocently. I looked back at the others, seeing their faces screwed up in confusion, all except for Natasha, who was looking at us with an amused expression on her face and a raised eyebrow. " _Not a word,_ " James growled, pointing a finger sharply at her.

Natasha grinned wickedly. " _No promises,_ " she replied gleefully.

"Hey, Nat," I said slowly, the change from Russian to English coming with the usual ease. "Can I have a word? Alone, if that's alright."

Natasha looked surprised, but nodded anyway. Neither of us were oblivious to the probing and curious stares that followed us out of the room and into the elevator. The ride to whatever floor Natasha had picked was silent, and we still didn't talk until we'd walked along a wide corridor and ducked inside a room which I knew instantly to be her own.

Natasha perched on the bed. "Don't worry," she said calmly. "No bugs in here. Tony tried to get cameras and stuff in at first, but when I kept finding and destroying them, he eventually gave up." She placed her arms on her legs, leaning forward with surprising eagerness. "So, what's up?"

"Don't get too excited," I laughed, pulling out a crumpled flyer from my jacket pocket. "It's nothing really interesting. I saw this when we arrived at the airport, and I thought it'd be something James and Steve in particular would enjoy. Plus, it could be a great opportunity to get Steve to meet a girl of his own."

Natasha took the flyer, scanning the information quickly. While I waited for her to finish, I found myself leaning against the wall with my hands folded over my chest.

When the assassin woman looked up at me, there was a wide grin and a determined gleam to her green eyes. "Daphne Sparrow, you are a _genius!_ " she cried, jumping up eagerly and heading for her walk-in wardrobe, flamboyantly throwing open the double doors. Curiously, I followed, only to stop dead when I was greeted by the sheer enormity of her clothes collection. Most of them were dresses of various shapes, sizes and styles.

"How many dresses do you have?" I asked in astonishment, running my hand over a floor-length red, velvet frock. It was simple but still stunning, and I knew it would suit Natasha down to the ground.

"I currently have 8,450, give or take a dozen," Natasha stated emotionlessly, flicking through a rack several feet away from me, before holding up a knee-length black dress with white lace along the hemline. "What do you think? Suitable?"

I hummed, before shaking my head. "No, it's a bit too lacy," I said. "May I?" I gestured to the vast collection of dresses in her possession.

Natasha grinned. "Go ahead - you've far more expertise in this area that me."

"I highly doubt that," I murmured, before moving towards a satin, dark green dress. I examined the cheekily low V-neck, along with the short sleeves and slightly pleated skirt. Smiling, I turned around and passed it to the assassin, who eyed the dress carefully, before her smile widened and she nodded.

"So what about you?" Natasha asked, moving the green dress to the front of the wardrobe so it could be easily seen.

"What about me?"

Rolling her eyes, Natasha planted her hands on her hips. "Well, you're not going to go in _that_ , are you?"

I glanced down at my clothes, admitting that the simple boots, jeans, blouse and jacket I was wearing would be downright ridiculous in such a setting. Still... "I don't actually have anything else," I told her, shrugging slightly. "Everything I _did_ have I left in England, and it's been decades since I last wore a dress."

Eyes widening almost comically, Natasha suddenly grabbed hold of my wrist and started dragging me back towards the elevator. I didn't resist, even though I easily could have done so. I didn't resist even when we arrived back at the penthouse suite and Natasha _continued_ to drag me forward. "Where's Pepper?" she demanded, her tone easily communicating that she meant business.

"Currently in a meeting that I _probably_ should be attending," Tony said, before shrugging. "She'll be out in an hour."

"Nope, not good enough. Get her out of it. Now."

I shook my head. "Natasha, I really don't think-" I was cut off when Natasha finally let go of my wrist, only to use the same hand to cover my mouth and silence me. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"This takes precedence," she told me sharply.

"You're overreacting, Nat," I said, gently prying her hand away from my face. "We have time."

"Need I remind you we only have _three days?_ " Nat said, placing her hands on her hips stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm used to finding what I need in less that three _hours_."

"We're doing it _my_ way this time."

Nat and I stood staring at each other, daring the other to continue to fight, only for our wordless conflict to be cut short by a loud cough from Barton. We both looked at him, wearing similar expressions of exasperation. "Care to tell the rest of us what's going on?"

"No," Nat and I answered in unison, before sharing a grin.

"Why not?" James asked, and I couldn't help but take a moment to admire his profile as he stood in front one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Because it's a secret," Nat said with an eye roll. "I would have thought that were obvious."

"Don't worry," I said with a smile. "You'll find out eventually."

" _Do you think we should get_ them _something as well?_ " Natasha murmured to me in Russian, and I knew even James wouldn't be able to hear her.

" _I doubt they'll have anything appropriate._ "

" _Do you know his size?_ "

I shrugged. " _I've bought him clothes before,_ " I said. " _And if not I could probably work it out from memory._ "

Natasha wiggled her eyebrows. " _Oh?_ "

I shoved her, laughing. " _It was nothing like_ that," I retorted, shaking my head. My voice had risen back to normal volume.

" _Do you mean to tell me that you guys haven't-_ "

" _Natasha, that's enough. It's none of your business either way._ "

" _You have?!_ " Natasha's eyes lit up. " _I want to know all the gory details._ "

" _No, Natasha, we haven't!_ " I groaned, shaking my head. " _I'm beginning to regret this now._ "

" _Regret what?_ "

" _Talking to you._ "

"Would you guys _please_ stop switching to Russian?" Tony said, sounding suspiciously like he was whining, though of course he'd deny it to the ends of the Earth. "It's no fun being unable to understand you guys."

"Trust me," James said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "You probably don't want to know." He looked at me, frowning. "I've no idea how you can have a conversation like that and not seem at all disturbed."

"Remember when I grew up, James."

It took a second, but then understanding flooding his eyes, and he nodded. "Right, right." He shook his head. "I still don't quite get it, but at least you have a reason."

I shrugged. " _You guys are just frigid in comparison,_ " I teased in Russian, and Natasha let out a bark of laughter.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened, and Pepper Potts stepped in, seeming completely at ease when she noticed most of the Avengers plus two notorious ex-Hydra assassins in the room. "I heard I was needed," she said with an easy smile.

"Yes," Natasha said, beaming. "I need your help and professional opinion on some very important things."

"Such as?"

Natasha's grin widened (which I didn't even know was possible). "Daphne and I are going shopping."

Pepper blinked. "You pulled me out of a meeting to go shopping?"

Natasha rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Well, _obviously_ there's more to it than that, but we don't want anyone else to know, so we're having to keep details to the bear minimum for now. So, you up for it?"

Pepper laughed. "Are you kidding? I got to miss a meeting _and_ I get to go shopping? What's there to complain about?"

I teasingly raised a hand. "I can think of many, many things."

"Well tough," Natasha said with a smirk. "Because it was _your_ idea."

"I had no idea it'd be blown so far out of proportion, though."

"You'll thank me later, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that, Natasha Romanoff."

* * *

I'd forgotten how much I loathed shopping. It was fun to start with, as it was the first time I'd had the opportunity to go out for myself just for the sake of it, but eventually I started to remember why I hated shopping centres so much - the queues, the crowds, the aching feet (especially when you were with Pepper Potts, who forced you to wear six inch stiletto heels; as if I needed the extra height).

But, so far it hadn't been unsuccessful. Thanks to Tony's near limitless bank account, we had permission to buy whatever we wanted. I myself had only picked out a couple dresses for my wardrobe - one was purple, the other a cute, baby blue - but Pepper and Natasha had added to that by contributing seven and nine other dresses to my pile, respectively. Then they had each picked out another half a dozen for themselves. I was just about ready to tear my hair out, when Pepper suddenly gasped dramatically, grabbed both mine and Natasha's wrists, and then dragged us into another store. I didn't have a chance to catch the name, but I figured I should probably make note of it as we left, just so I knew what shop to avoid in future.

Lingerie. Everywhere.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," I muttered, stopping in my tracks and causing my companions to jerk from the unexpected opposition.

"Come on, it'll be cute," Pepper argued, pouting.

I shook my head. "The low back dresses and deep plunging necklines I can just about handle, but _this_ is just too far."

"I bet I know a certain Winter Soldier who would appreciate the view."

I groaned. "Nat, I've already told you-"

"You haven't got that far yet, I know," she said, heading straight for the lacy clothes in dark colours. "But one day, you will. And I don't want you going there without a plan."

"I don't feel the need to plan out every second of my life, Romanoff," I grumbled, batting her hands away when she tried to put a body suit made of very sheer, black lace against my body to see how it would fit.

Pepper piped up then, carrying a two-piece set in her hands which was admittedly nice. It was a rich burgundy colour. "This is still something you should be prepared for, Daphne," she said, passing me the piece and then giving me a sharp glare when I tried to give it back. I grudgingly held onto it.

"I honestly don't think he'll care either way," I muttered, trying to hide the two-piece set behind the seven bags I was carrying. "Remember, he grew up in the 40s. I don't think this sort of stuff really existed back then."

"Well, in that case, it'll be a nice introduction to the modern era," Natasha said with a smug grin, before pushing three hangers into my hands. "If it makes you feel any better, Pepper and I are looking for ourselves as well as you."

I raised an eyebrow and smirked at the red haired assassin "Oh? And who are you trying to impress, Miss Romanoff?"

"Who said I was trying to impress anyone?" Natasha said without hesitation.

I smirked. "Me," I stated boldly, and then folded my arms over my chest when she looked at me in mild surprise.

"And who do you think I am trying to impress?" she challenged, mirroring my stance.

"Oh, I don't know," I said, drawing out each word. "Perhaps a certain doctor. Likes purple shirts. Wears glasses sometimes. Has breath-taking anger management issues. Ringing any bells?"

Natasha stared at me with her mouth slightly agape, and Pepper gasped. "Natasha!" she squeaked, beaming. "You like Dr Banner?! Why didn't you say anything?"

But Nat was too busy staring at me. "How did you...?"

I chuckled. "You might have been the Red Room's best, Natasha Romanoff, but I've been at this for a _long_ time."


	11. 11 - Secret Keeping

**A/N: I'm back, guys! Even though I was unable to update, I've still been writing, so I have two chapters for you today, and the one after that might come tomorrow (or the day after). After that, updates should continue as usual. :)**

 **Big thanks to: kira kitty 21, ajblake, Theia-The-Planet, vicmay97, Cookiegirl226, Aewnaur, TMNTGirl, culdrencakeaddiction, ChibiSpyStuff and kittykawaii4 for following/favouriting! Thanks for waiting, too, guys. This is another light-hearted one, so hopefully you enjoy it.**

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* * *

 **11 - Secret Keeping**

With our purchases spread across sixteen bags (ten of which I was carrying), we headed back to the Avengers Tower, drawing more than a few eyes as we traipsed along the busy Manhattan streets. Pepper and Natasha were happily chattering away, but I trailed a little behind, my mind drifting. I wondered whether the guys would even like what I'd planned for them. With it being a secret, the girls and I would technically would be making them do something without their consent, and I wasn't completely certain it would pay off in the end. I hoped so. But I still worried.

"Hey, are you alright?" Natasha asked me quietly, having slipped back so she was walking beside me.

I blinked a few times, before sending her a small smile and nodding. "Yeah, yeah," I said quickly. "I'm fine, I was just... thinking."

"About what?"

"Whether or not this is a good idea."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Daphne, it's a _brilliant_ idea. Those guys are gonna love it, I promise."

"But what if they don't?" I urged. "I don't want to be the one to force them to have a bad evening."

Sighing, Natasha shook her head. "They're grown men, Daph. If they want to leave, they are perfectly entitled to do so. But I _promise_ you, they won't want to leave."

"Are you sure?"

"I'd be willing to bet you a thousand dollars," she declared smugly.

I laughed. "I don't have a thousand dollars, Nat."

She shrugged. "That's fine. If I'm wrong, I'll give you the cash. If I'm right, I'll just make do with the bragging rights. Deal?"

Shaking my head, I told her, "I don't think you quite understand how bets work. But fine."

"Excellent. Now, let's hurry back. We have more planning to do."

* * *

I flopped back on the comfortable king sized bed in the room Tony had given to James and I. I had no idea so much planning could go into an event we weren't even hosting. And with all the experiments Natasha and Pepper were doing with my make up, I felt a bit like an oversized Barbie doll. I kept trying to tell them I already knew what to do, but they were having too much fun. Which meant I was stuck sitting on a fancy wooden chair for _two hours_ with them making the most minute adjustments to my eye shadow or eyeliner or lipstick. It was frustrating. In the end, I put a stop to it, telling them firmly that I knew _exactly_ what I was doing when it came to hair and make up, as I'd had training back in the 60s. They agreed to stop only if I agreed to dress up everyone for the event. Needless to say, I knew I was going to be busy in three days.

The door opened with the smallest of creaks, and I didn't so much as lift my head when James came into the room and sat on the bed beside me. I let out a quiet sigh when he gently started running his fingers through my hair.

"You alright?" he asked me gently.

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied softly. "Natasha and Pepper are pretty brutal when it comes to make up." I smiled. "They're nice, though, so it wasn't as bad as I made it out to be to them. But don't tell them that; it still wasn't a good way to spend two hours."

James chuckled, shifting to lie down next to me on the mattress, curling his fingers around my own and gently tugging me so my head rested on his torso. I could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart through his chest. "So am I going to find out what this plan of yours is, or are you going to keep me guessing?"

I grinned up at him. "Well, I'm not going to tell you. Whether you decide to try to work it out is entirely up to you."

"Seriously? You're gonna keep me in the dark about this?"

"You'll thank me later," I said bravely, Natasha's little pep talk having instilled a great amount of confidence in me about my plan. "You'll just have to wait a few days." Then my voice adopted a teasing tone. "Think you can handle that, sweetheart?"

James grinned, pushing me until I was lying underneath him on the bed. His body hovered over mine, never really touching it, but I could feel his body heat wash over me. James ducked his head and gently nipped at the curve of my neck, causing a shiver to race down my spine. "I think I can handle that, doll," he murmured, peppering my throat with kisses before standing up and sending me a roguish smirk, which in turn caused far too many dangerous thoughts to instantly begin circling around my head. "I'm going to make use of the shower. You're welcome to join me, of course."

I threw a pillow at him, with he caught with ease. "In your dreams, Shadow," I muttered.

James chuckled, tossing the pillow back. " _You've no idea,_ " he whispered, in a voice that was quiet enough I barely caught what he said. I kind of wished I hadn't heard him, because his words caused a foreign fire to flare up inside me. James ducked inside the bathroom before he could take note of the fact that my self-control was hanging by a thread. I was kind of glad of it - if he _had_ noticed, there would have been absolutely nothing I could have done to stop him if he decided to do... well, _that._ I would have fallen into his hands faster than you could say 'crap'. And I probably would have come out the other end regretting absolutely nothing. But I didn't think now was the right time for either of us, so, as tempting as it was, I decided _not_ to follow James into the bathroom.

* * *

The next two days were slightly weird for James and I, since we didn't really feel all that comfortable around people other than each other, particularly at the start. Natasha (and by some stretch, Pepper) became good friends of mine pretty quickly, and Steve was just too sweet to say no to. Tony irritated me, but he was also a great source of amusement in terms of 'debates' (they were arguments really, but hey, I didn't really like that word). Dr Banner was also sweet, but he liked to keep himself to himself, so I never really talked to him much. Thor left the same day we arrived, meaning I didn't really have a chance to get to know him. Clint was actually pretty great, too, and we'd already had almost two dozen archery contests (80% of which I had won, though Clint kept saying it was because of the number of years of practice I had over him, at which point I'd constantly remind him of the whole 'being put in cyrofreeze' thing).

Overall, I got on pretty well with the others, even if the sheer number of them often had me shifting in my seat.

James stuck with Steve and I, talking only occasionally to Natasha, and then avoiding the others like the plague. Particularly Tony. And I knew why.

"James, you _have_ to tell him."

James shook his head. "I know I do," he murmured in return. "He deserves that much, but I don't really want to admit, even to myself, that it was me."

I placed a hand on his cheek. "The first way to free yourself of guilt is to accept that it ever happened at all. Besides, Tony's less likely to blow up if he already doesn't trust you. It'll be ten times worse if you guys become friends, and _then_ you drop this rather charming bombshell on him." I hummed, frowning. "Tell him while you guys are in the training room," I said decisively. "At least that room is mostly weapon-proof."

James raised an eyebrow, before letting out a long breath. "Fine," he said. "But not today."

"Why not?"

He smirked at me. "Because you, Natasha and Pepper have been planning something that you said happens today. I don't want to ruin the mood for whatever the hell it is."

I chuckled, then nodded. "Yeah, that's true, I suppose." I then glanced at the clock and felt my jaw drop. "Oh, damn!" I cursed, running towards the staircase.

"Daphne, what's wrong?!" James called after me.

"We're gonna be late!" I shouted back.

I rushed into the penthouse, praying that both of the girls I needed would be there. Thankfully, they were.

Everyone turned to stare at me when I shot inside the room.

"Whoa there, take it easy," Tony said with a grin. "Don't overexert yourself now."

I shot him a glare, then turned to Nat and Pepper. "It's time," I told them.

In unison, the two of them glanced at the clock, expressions of surprise crossed their faces, and then they jumped to their feet.

"Where are you guys going?!" Clint called after us.

"7'o'clock," Nat called back. "All of you, go to your rooms. Get dressed. Be back up here by 7:30."

"Get dressed? Into what?"

"It'll be waiting for you already!"

The three of us went into Natasha's room and immediately picked up the dresses we'd chosen for the night. Natasha's was the dark green one I'd picked out for her, Pepper's was navy blue with white flowers, and mine was the deep purple one I'd found. To go with them, we all had black heeled shoes. And of course, the girls had insisted we all wore some of that special lingerie they'd bought when we went shopping. I argued, but those two were incredibly stubborn, and eventually I gave up.

Once we were all dressed, Natasha quickly hurried out of the room to place the guys' outfits on their beds so they'd be there when they came looking for them. Meanwhile, I shuffled Pepper over to Natasha's vanity table and pulled out the assassin's extremely extensive collection of hair and make up accessories. I started by grabbing a can of hairspray and, after warning Pepper to close her eyes and hold her breath, sprayed it liberally over her whole head. I then grabbed a hairbrush and got to work.

* * *

By the end of the next hour and a half I managed to get all of us dressed up with the appropriate hair and make up to match our dresses. With just under an hour left to spare, I started teaching them how to dance. Natasha caught on quickly, but Pepper took a little longer to pick up the basics. After that, it was mainly just practice. By the time 7:30 rolled around, I was actually starting to feel a little bit nervous.

"Relax," Natasha whispered to me as the three of us left her room and headed towards the penthouse suite. "Everything will be fine."

"I'm just wondering whether it was a good idea to include the rest of the guys as well," I admitted. "Steve and James will be fine, but I'm not sure about the others. I don't want to make them uncomfortable."

"If we were going to a club, I'd have agreed with you," Natasha said with a warm smile. "But we're not. Believe me, everything will be fine. And don't forget: I've got a thousand dollars on the line here, so you _know_ I'm confident."

I chuckled. "Oh, I remember," I told her teasingly as we entered the elevator and Pepper pressed the button for the penthouse floor. "Do you reckon they'll all be there?"

"Well, we're a tad late, so I'd say so," Pepper commented idly, fiddling with the silver flower earrings in her ears.

The elevator stopped. "Well, this is the moment of truth," Natasha said dramatically, and the three of us stepped out into the penthouse suit.

The guys were all dressed up as we'd asked them to be, wearing expensive black suits with bowties. As it turned out, they all scrubbed up quite nicely. Some more than others, but then again, my opinion was rather biased on that count.

All eyes turned towards us when we waltzed in, and a few mouths even dropped. Tony looked particularly surprised, and Bruce and James had slightly dazed looks in their eyes. Steve and Clint just stared, hints of a smile forming on their faces.

"So would you mind telling us what we're doing now?" Tony asked. "We've only been waiting for, you know, _three days!_ "

"I picked up a leaflet when we landed at the airport," I said, smiling half-smugly, half-sheepishly. "There's a 40s dance night in a place not too far from here. I showed Natasha, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"So that's what all this was about?" James asked quietly, and I sent him a smile and nodded. He shook his head, lips quirking up into a fond smile. "If you wanted to go out dancing, all you had to do was ask. There was no need for all the cloak and dagger."

"Yeah, well, it was fun making you guys sweat a bit," Pepper said, flashing Tony a wink, whose return expression wasn't exactly what I would call 'PG-13'.

"Just so you know," Natasha said, moving to stand comfortably between her two best guys (a.k.a. Bruce and Clint), "we're walking, and the dance night starts at 8'o'clock. So we'd better get going."

And with little more said, the eight of us headed out for the night.


	12. 12 - A Trip Back In Time

**A/N: So here is the second chapter of the day, as promised :)**

* * *

 **12 - A Trip Back in Time**

Surprisingly enough, there was a decent-length queue leading into the venue, and our group fit itself comfortably at the end, our 40s outfits fitting in well with some of the others. Even so, Steve, James and I rolled our eyes at a few of them, who'd been a bit out on what the 40s style looked like. One couple came dressed for the 70s. I found it rather hilarious when they weren't even allowed in. The other couples who'd gotten it wrong were only slightly out, maybe erring a bit more towards the 50s, but that couple were so outrageously incorrect that it couldn't even be called a poor attempt.

Needless to say, we were let in without hassle.

The room was large, with a massive, wooden dance floor in the centre, a stage against the far wall, a large bar counter to our immediate left, and the two other walls were reserved for round tables that each sat up to four people (though I reckoned our whole group could squeeze onto one table if we really wanted it to). Large floor to ceiling windows framed by dark yellow curtains dotted the walls. Flower-shaped lights hung from the ceiling, emitting a soft yellow light that was kind of romantic, in a way. There was a band on the stage, already playing the first tune.

I'd barely even managed to take note of my surroundings before James had taken my hand and was eagerly dragging me towards the middle of the room, seamlessly moving from walking to dancing as soon as we met the centre of the floor. The style of dance was familiar, even though neither of us had danced it for years, and since we were the first ones on the floor we could use as much space as we wanted. We moved easily with one another, our years as partners making it easy for us to predict the other's next step.

Whilst we were dancing, James whispered to me, "Thank you. I think I needed this."

I smiled gently up at him, squeezing the hand that was grasped in my own. "We both needed it," I corrected. "I sometimes forget it's okay to do normal things."

He chuckled, whirling me around effortlessly. "Well, at least we have each other in the moments when normal doesn't seem quite so fun."

I cracked a small grin, before my expression faltered. My heart started to pick up pace, my skin became flushed, and my mouth became dry. "James, I..."

His brows pinched together, but neither of us stopped dancing. Although, we weren't really listening to the music anymore; just focusing on each other. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, I just... I wanted to tell you that..." In my head, I was cursing my own weakness. I mean, it was just a few goddamn words.

James' eyes and face softened, and a tiny smile flickered onto his face. While we spun around together again, he ducked his head down and pressed his lips against mine. It was a sweet kiss, but it was short. He moved his lips to my ear and whispered, "I know."

I shook my head slightly. "No, I have to say it," I stated firmly. I drew in a quick breath, and then said, "I love you, James."

And just like that, it was like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The words were daunting beforehand, but once spoken they were just so _freeing_.

James' face split into a wide smile as he gripped my body slightly tighter before pulling me into a lift. I laughed when he spun me around again, pressing his lips firmly against mine. "I love you too, Daph. Never forget that."

"I won't," I promised, before both of us got swept up in the dance again.

The first song ended with a round of applause from everyone else in the room, and James and I grinned at our friends as we moved off the dance floor and a few others walked onto it. James let his arm drop to my waist, leading me off the dance floor.

"I didn't realise you guys could dance so well!" Pepper gushed immediately, her face split in a wide grin.

Steve chuckled, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Yeah, well, Bucky went dancing a lot back in the day. Usually with a different girl every time. I can only think of one or two that you danced with for more than one dance."

James shrugged. "Admittedly, next to you, I looked like a bloody God," he teased, laughing when Steve shoved him, even though there was a grin on the Captain's face.

"Every time you tried to set up a double date, you ended up with both girls," Steve reminded him, though there was no malice in his tone. He was simply stating a fact.

James' arm tugged me flush against him, and I could pick up a sense of possessiveness in the act. "Believe me, I have no plans to do that tonight," he said seriously, and I had to shoot Natasha a harsh glare to stop her from pulling the _very_ pointed look that I knew was bursting to appear.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," Tony said, drawing attention to him as he stared over my shoulder at the bar, "but I'm gonna get myself a drink. The party don't start 'til there's been _at least_ two shots handed out, am I right?"

"Whatever makes the genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist happy," I muttered, and I didn't fail to notice the shocked expressions on the faces of Natasha and Steve - the only ones who appeared to have heard me. I sent them a perfectly practiced, innocently confused look. I didn't think it was wise to let them know about the whole 'I'm from a world where this world is a story' thing just yet. They might try to force me into telling them about things - like Ultron, for example.

"Hey, you alright?" James asked me, frowning in concern.

I sent my most convincing smile up at him, and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, fine. This is just..." I glanced around me. "Strange. I haven't been in a place like this for so long."

James hummed, thankfully buying my tale. "I know what you mean," he said. Then he suddenly looked surprised, before turning around and saying, "You look beautiful. I just realised I've not said that yet."

I laughed. "You make it sound like you're obligated to do so."

"I am," he said simply. "Particularly when I mean it." He smirked charmingly down at me, one side of his lips lifted more than the other. "And trust me, I'm _definitely_ not lying."

I rolled my eyes. "Flirt," I teased.

James' smirk somehow stretched even more. "Aren't you already supposed to know that?" he murmured, his warm breath fluttering against my ear.

 _Two can play a game, sweetheart._

I shifted so my lips brushed against his cheek as I spoke, and I wasn't oblivious to the sudden tension in his body at my closeness. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. "I do know that," I said lowly in return. "I also know that your flirting isn't going to work on me."

James chuckled, grasping my hand in his. "Oh, I think I can get that to change." Then he dragged me back onto the dance floor.

* * *

"...And then of course I wake up in the morning with a boiler between my legs."

The whole group burst into raucous laughter - even Steve was holding back tears. Tony just shrugged, taking another sip of his scotch, completely unfazed. Music was still playing in the background, but only a few couples were still on the floor dancing. The rest were either drinking, eating, or just talking.

A familiar face suddenly appeared, wearing a black dress that swished almost seductively around her legs. A silver chain hung around her neck, but the charm at the end was tucked underneath the neckline of her dress. I had only seen her once before, just before James and I left on our road trip, but that long, purple hair was pretty distinctive. She stopped in between Clint and Natasha, her face deadly serious.

Steve blinked. "Mariana," he greeted, before frowning. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a situation," she said, with the hint of an accent that I guessed was either Spanish or Portuguese.

Everyone suddenly tensed up. "Agent Silva, what's wrong?" Bruce asked, fiddling nervously with his fingers, eyes darting warily at the surrounding area, no doubt looking for any exits.

"We think they're after those two again," she said, pointing at James and I. In an instant we were on our feet. She glanced at us. "There's someone already in here, but we don't know what he looks like."

A faint noise tickled in the back of my head. It sounded almost like a word - _bespokoynyy._ My body twitched without my noticing.

"Do you have any clues at all?" Steve asked, just as another word hit my ears. This time, it was easy to distinguish. _Odinnadtsat_.

My head whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice. My hands became fists by my side. _Uragan_.

I hissed out a curse, drawing many eyes my way. I knew I probably looked quite frazzled, but no one could blame me. "Daphne, what's wrong?" James asked, placing a hand on my arm, but I shook it off, eyes still searching.

"I can..."

 _Poddelyvat._

"Daphne?"

"I can hear my words, James."

His face dropped completely flat in a second, and he turned to the others, speaking in a low tone. "Get everyone out of here. Now."

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

 _Chetyre._

My body was rebelling now, my hands twitching towards the knife strapped to my thigh. I took a few shaky steps away from my friends' table as they got up and calmly began asking everyone to leave. Thankfully, no one seemed inclined to argue.

 _Nevezhestvennyy_.

I growled, eyes moving even faster. "Show yourself, you bastard!" I shouted, and suddenly the other people in the room were rushing out at an even more frantic pace.

 _Vossoyedineniye_.

Grabbing my head, I tried to block out the sound, but my ears still tuned into the words I was dreading to hear.

 _Dva_.

"Stop it!" I screamed, shaking my head as James tried to get closer to me. "No, James," I said firmly, even as the next word rang in my ears. _Bolyashchiy_. "Make sure everyone is far away from here."

"I'm not going to leave you."

"You know I have no control in a situation like this." I shook my head. "Go." He hesitated. "GO!" After gritting his teeth and glowering, James whirled around and stormed out of the now empty club, slamming the door behind him in the process.

In the corner of my eye I saw a man with black hair emerging from the shadows, wearing a smirk. His lips curled to form the final words. " _Chernyy vsadnik_."

My mind instantly fell completely blank of all thought and emotion. My eyes drifted to the man, whose expression was expectant. " _Ready to comply_."

* * *

Groaning, I opened my eyes. I was strapped to a chair, my arms pinned behind me by chains that were attached to the crumbling, white walls. That bloody red symbol was painted on the wall in front of me, though it was crudely done, and some of the paint appeared to have run. The door opened, and I turned my head to glower at the person who walked in. It was the dark haired man from the club.

"What did you make me do?" I growled, tugging on my chains.

"Nothing," he said. "I simply instructed you to come here and not fight back when we tied you down."

"Why just me? Why not get James while you were at it?"

He smiled crookedly. "I knew there would be no time. By the time one of you was taken over, the other would be beyond reach. I made a choice."

"Why me? I'm weaker than him. Can't fight as well as him."

"Perhaps, but you are a woman, and a woman's mind works in very different ways to a man's. I need that variety. Not to mention, due to your rather unique past, the knowledge you possess is more helpful for what I need from you."

I tensed up. "My rather unique past?" I echoed.

He smirked. "You didn't think everything about you wouldn't be noted down somewhere, did you?" From underneath his jacket, he pulled out a beige file, with the words ' _Asset 29_ ' printed on the cover in Russian. He began idly flicking through it. "Everything from your arrival at a Hydra compound in 1953 to the start of 2014 has been recorded in here. Much of it is also on the electronic files that were leaked during the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., however some of the information was kept strictly on paper. In this file."

I stayed silent for a long time, eyeing the file. Then I asked, "What does it say about me?"

He hummed, flicked back to the first page, and began to read. " _Subject 29 showed immediate signs of hostility. There was no disturbance by isolation or darkness, and the desire to challenge authority appears strong. Subject has, as of yet, one obvious line of weakness, in the form of Subject 28, with whom she arrived here_." He paused, glanced up at me, then went back to reading. " _Initial meeting deemed the Subject to be of above average intelligence, previously living in a family of one brother and both parents. Due to unknown circumstances, the Subject is claiming to have come from the year 2016, making her birth year 1999. There are no signs of any mental irregularities, and there have been no hints of insanity or delirium._ "

"How nice of him to say," I grumbled, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

" _Further prompting on events to happen in the future has proved unsuccessful - the Subject refuses to impart any information about coming years,_ " he finished, as if I hadn't interrupted him. He then slowly closed the file. "So you see, I couldn't help but be intrigued by that." He smiled a smile of such malice that his eyes darkened in an undeniably dangerous way. "Is it true?"

I scoffed. "Of course it isn't," I lied. "I was trying to convince Pierce that I was not mentally able to withstand the tortures I figured they'd put me through. And I maintained the story because I knew that admitting to my lies would _also_ result in pain. It was a defence mechanism."

The man stared at me for a long time, before his lips twitched. "No one at the age of sixteen can lie to a trained Hydra Agent."

"I've always been a good liar." And that, ironically enough, _wasn't_ a lie.

He hummed, before he shrugged. "It matters little, either way. I have great plans for you, and I know of a certain metal-armed soldier who will be tearing apart the country to find you right now."

"Where am I, anyway?"

He chuckled. "Still in New York. Though, we're not in the main city. Sometimes the best place to hide something is-"

"In plain sight," I finished dully. I glanced around me. "Well, based on the thickness of these walls, and the material of the bars behind you, I'd say we were in some kind of depository. Am I right?"

"No, actually. We're in an abandoned psychiatric centre. This particular building closed in either the late 60s or early 70s."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. The cliché place to hide something secret - an abandoned building that no one will ever bother to search through."

"And if they do, they'll be quickly taken out," he said with a vicious smile.

Huffing and leaning back in my chair, I asked, "So what exactly is it you want me to do? Clearly I'm not here for no reason."

"No, you are not. But you will need to be a little more... _compliant_... before you agree to my demands. So first, there are a few things I need to do to make that possible."

* * *

 **For those of you who may be curious, Daphne's trigger words have the following meanings:**

 **Restless - _bespokoynyy  
_** **Eleven - _odinnadtsat  
_** **Hurricane - _uragan  
_** **Forge - _poddelyvat_  
** **Four - _chetyre_  
** **Ignorant - _nevezhestvennyy_  
** **Reunion - _vossoyedineniye_  
** **Two - _dva_  
** **Aching - _bolyashchiy  
_** **Black Horseman - _chernyy vsadnik_**


	13. 13 - The Mission

**A/N: This one's a little bit shorter, but I hope you still like it :) Let me know!**

 **Big thanks to Bucky-Ruined-My-Life (trust me, I know the feeling) for following and favouriting. :)**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: Heh, maybe a little ;)**

* * *

 **13 - The Mission**

James was pacing the length of the room, his whole body tense, and the feeling of being in a slowly shrinking box was borderline overwhelming. His mind raced with theories and ideas, but the ice-cold feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach was telling him the same thing that his mind was telling him - it had been Hydra. Again. Only this time, he was forced to stand back and let them take Daphne away from him. She'd been right - under the influence of her trigger words, even he would have been seen as a threat. And there was no way he could have brought himself to fight her. Not after everything they'd been through and done together. Unfortunately, when he'd tried to find her so he could trail her, she was already gone. And, being the trained tracker and hunter that she was, she left no hints as to where she went.

Despite his fervent protests, they had all retreated back to the Avengers Tower to plan their next move. Which brought him to his current position, stalking up and down the length of Stark's penthouse suite. As he'd been doing for nearly a straight hour.

Four pairs of eyes watched him closely - Steve, Barton, Romanoff and Pepper. Banner and Stark were talking in low tones, using the high-tech computers to try to find something on Daphne that would allow them to trace her. But she had left her new phone in her room, and so she had no other way of being traced. That didn't stop them from searching though, which he appreciated, even if he seriously doubted it would yield any useful results.

The Agent who had warned them about the threat entered the room, carrying a stack of paper in her hands. Everyone turned to face her, and he even stopped his incessant toing and froing to hear what she had to say. The woman seemed impervious to the attention on her as she calmly started to talk. "I managed to catch a glimpse of the man who used her trigger words as he left the club," she announced. "As soon as we got back I looked for him in our database. It took a while, but I've found a match."

"Who is he?" Steve asked.

Agent Silva turned over the top sheet of paper to show a man with bronzed skin, dark hair and dark eyes. He had a square jaw and a slightly hooked nose. His eyebrows were thick and bushy. "His name is Zale Beritt. Has two American parents, however both sides of his family have Romani roots."

"Criminal record?"

"Arrested once for assault. He got into a fight with a middle-aged man whilst waiting in a line at the cinema. He himself was only slightly hurt - most of his injuries were on his hands - but the man he fought was sent to hospital with several broken ribs."

"Do we have any idea where he'll be?" James asked, ignoring the slight tone of desperation in his voice.

He hated that Agent Silva's expression was one of sympathy when she met his eyes. No... No, it wasn't sympathy. He wasn't sure _what_ it was, but either way he didn't much care for it. "He's been caught by surveillance cameras in various places around New York state. The one he's seen by most commonly is the Rockland Psychiatric Centre."

"I thought that closed down years ago," Romanoff said with a frown.

Agent Silva nodded. "The children's ward did. Some parts of the centre remain active, but many of the buildings built in the 30s and 40s have been abandoned. I have reason to believe that Beritt has holed himself - and Sparrow - in one of those buildings."

Steve nodded. "Good work, Mariana. Thank you."

Agent Silva sent the Captain an amused look. "You make it sound like I'm not going to come with you."

"Mar-"

"Oh, no," she said sharply, eyes flashing with the same type of anger that Daphne's would if she were in the same situation. James tried to force that particular similarity into the back of his mind. It wasn't helping his nerves. In any way. "You're not going to drag me out of my own mission, Rogers. I've been assigned with locating and neutralising known Hydra representatives. This guy is right under my nose, and I'm not going to let you guys do all the heavy lifting."

"Agent Silva is an exceptional fighter," Romanoff piped up. "And, for what it's worth, her sense of direction is rather admirable as well."

"What's your weapon of choice?" James found himself asking.

Agent Silva sent him a cocky smirk that, again, looked horribly, achingly familiar. If he didn't know about the circumstances surrounding Daphne's arrival in this world, he would have sworn they were related somehow. "My ideal gun choice would be Uzis, or perhaps an AK-74u, however put a tomahawk in my hand and I'll happily throw it at someone."

In spite of himself, James felt his lips quirk up at the sides. Somehow, the candid tone of her voice helped to instil some confidence in him. This was someone he could deal with working alongside. She was by no means as good as Daphne - no one could ever be as good as Daphne - but he figured he could at least try to make it work. He turned to Steve. "When do we leave?"

Steve frowned. "We can't just attack him blind, Buck," he said softly. "We need to know what we're dealing with."

"Must I remind you that every second we waste is another second where Daphne is being put through God only knows what kind of tortures?" James snarled, both hands curling into fists.

"For once, I agree with Cap," Stark said. "A single mistake could be the difference between life and death for her."

"Hydra aren't going to go to all the trouble to capture her only to kill her immediately," Agent Silva said, shaking her head.

"Unless they're using her as bait."

"So... What?" James bit out. "We just step back and let it happen?"

"No, we plan it through," Steve said firmly. "That way we can know for certain that our chances of success are the best they can be."

James knew in his head that Steve was probably right, but he couldn't stop himself from storming out of the room and heading straight towards the extensive armoury. After staring scornfully at it, James reluctantly pulled on his old Hydra uniform. He then began to strap guns of many varieties to his back, pausing only when he heard someone else enter.

It was Silva. She had a cold but determined gleam to her eyes as she passed him and began to pick out a few weapons of her own. "I'm coming with you," she said without looking at him, tucking two Uzis into what looked a bit like a harness that crisscrossed over her back. "I know where we're going."

"Is it far?"

"Relatively," she answered, selecting a pair of tomahawks, twirling them in her fingers, and then slipping them into little sheathes at her waist. "But that's fine, because I have a set of wheels in Stark's garage." Silva finished by picking up two very small, thin knives, before using them to pin her hair up in a large bun at the back of her head. She looked him squarely in the eye. "You ready?"

James nodded once sharply, before allowing her to lead the way through the Avengers Tower and down to the garage. He didn't even register which car he was climbing inside, simply opened the door and slid into the passenger seat while Silva sat herself comfortably in the driver's side.

He had never been more thankful that some people were absolute lunatics behind the wheel.

* * *

I never thought Hydra would stoop so low as to physically torture me, and in a way I was right. There was no sign of Hydra's typical methods of torture - waterboarding, branding, whipping, and so on - but Hydra were clever. They had some of the smartest people on the planet working for them. They were capable of brainwashing people; the trigger words were proof of this.

What they did was inject me with a strange moss-green liquid. It took a very long time for me to feel anything, but when I did, I immediately wished it would end. The pain wasn't sharp like a needle point or a knife, but rather it burned around my insides with more ferocity than boiling oil on ice. Every part of me felt scolded and I was in more pain than I could have ever imagined was possible. A bullet would have been a mercy in that moment. Hell, the memory wipe would have been preferable to this agony. I let out a strangled scream and could feel blood well into my throat from where I had bitten through my tongue in a vain attempt to keep quiet. My body tried to curl up into a foetal position, but my limbs were tied down to a metal chair - _the_ metal chair. The one they used to wipe my memories. I wished they would, so that I could forget this bloody torture.

I didn't know whether it had been minutes or hours or days since I was injected with that stuff, but by the time the pain finally lessened to the point where it became bearable, I was just about ready to commit a massacre. The desire for revenge burned hot in me, and for a moment I wondered to myself if the fluid in my blood had really faded away. But this heat was different. It was a burning pain that I willingly added more fuel to, watching with satisfaction as it rose, and rose, and rose. My arms and legs strained against their holds, the metal groaning at the pressure being put on it. Perhaps James would have been able to break out. But I was weaker than James. I was faster, but I was weaker.

My breathing was quick and ragged when I flopped back onto the chair, having decided I was regrettably going nowhere.

It was at least another half hour before that damnable man came back in again, wearing an expression I had no other word for except _smug._

"Comfortable?" he asked in a pleasant tone. I wanted to rip out his throat.

" _You can go to hell_ ," I snarled in return, my body twitching as it fought to rid me of the rest of that poison.

"I probably will," he said with a small sigh, before he smiled viciously. "But so will you. You're a murderer, Silverthorn. You can never run away from that. Have you ever counted them? Just how many lives have you taken over the years?"

"Every life I ever ended I took because people like _you_ gave me no choice but to do so," I hissed, trying to lurch forward, but the chair held me down.

The man looked amused. "You could have killed yourself," he pointed out carelessly. "Had it really bothered you, you would have done all that you could to end it."

"I had someone to live for."

"It's cute," he said with a wry smile, "this relationship you have with the Soldier. As if either of you were even still human. It's a dream, nothing more. You're deluding yourselves; only adding to your own pain when all this comes to a close."

"I'd rather end this knowing I made the most of my life than to go out wishing I'd done something else. You tend to regret the things you didn't do more than the things you did. And I could _never_ regret James. Not ever."

"Cute," he repeated, this time with more of a derisive sneer. "But it makes you weak, this so-called love you share. It gives you a weakness."

"It also gives us strength," I challenged, smirking somewhat feebly, still shaking from the assault my body had just been forced to endure. "Something to fight for. A reason to _keep fighting_ , even when our bodies are weighed down by fatigue."

"Fatigue which makes you more likely to make a mistake," he pointed out blandly. His face twisted into that same feral, toothy grin. "All's fair in love and war," he taunted, before the spiked plates attached to the chair hummed to life. I started to panic and tried to pull away, but the chair kept me in place. I screwed my eyes shut as the plates clamped around my skull. I couldn't help but scream as I felt the electricity course through my veins, reacting violently with what remained of the toxic liquid in my blood. I was in agony all over again.


	14. 14 - The End of the Line

**A/N: So this is the last full-length chapter of this story. And I've realised this series is gonna be LONG. I might go back over it in a while and join a few of the stories together just so it's a bit less disjointed. Anyways, I'll post the epilogue today as well, and probably the first chapter of the next story. Until then, enjoy!**

 **Review Response(s):**

 **Lara Barnes: I would say I'm sorry, but... I'm not. :)**

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 **14 - The End of the Line**

The abandoned building was practically overrun with ivy, the walls cracked and crumbling, and the front door half covered by the plants. It looked every inch like it was completely empty, but James somehow knew that this building above all the rest was the one they were looking for. Agent Silva didn't seem inclined to argue either, simply following his lead without a word, guns at the ready.

The door was locked tight, but that posed no problem for James, who simply drew back his metal arm and slammed it into the door, blasting it off its hinges. He didn't care for being silent. The more noise he made, the more opponents he'd face. And he needed _something_ to draw his mind. As he and Agent Silva entered the threshold, the first thing that became apparent was the quiet. There was no dripping water or creaking floorboards. There was nothing but the gentle whir of the wind that squeezed its way through the gaps in the windows. Before him was a corridor, the floor covered with small flecks of paint which had at some point fallen off the walls. Ahead was a staircase leading upwards.

At the top of the staircase was Zale Beritt, stood in a fairly relaxed position with his hands in his pockets.

"You took a while to arrive here, Soldier," he drawled, with the smallest hint of an accent in his voice.

James stared at the man for a long time, his mind suddenly clear of rage, and he slipped back into the analytical mindset he often favoured back when he was doing his missions for Hydra. He examined the slight clenching and unclenching of the man's jaw, how his hands were balled into fists in his pockets, how his eyes were tight and seemed... troubled. "But less time that you thought it would take me," he deduced confidently, his voice lower than normal. He could feel the other part of him, the one he preferred to ignore had ever existed, trying to edge forward. But killing Beritt would not help him, so he pushed that part of him back. He clenched his left hand into a fist, for once not completely despising the clicking of metal as his arm prepared itself for battle. "Where is she?"

"Come and see," the man drawled, before disappearing further along the corridor.

James paused, looked around him, then turned to Silva. "Check the rooms on this floor," he ordered in a quiet voice. "Meet me upstairs when you're done."

Silva's eyes tightened, before she nodded sharply. "Don't lower your guard," she warned, before turning and walking silently down the corridor beyond the stairs, eyes roaming her surroundings with practiced ease. James then turned his gaze to the top of the stairs, before he started to slowly ascend.

He wasn't surprised to see he was facing opposition at the top, but a few flicks of his trigger finger and the occasional movement of his metal arm to deflect bullets soon had the men dead or dying on the floor. Beritt was stood at the end of the corridor, looking irritated.

"Did you really think that would be enough to stop me?" James asked, reloading his gun. While he had barely used half of his old magazine, he would rather go into the unknown with as many bullets as possible. He was glad he brought eight spare magazines with him. Honestly, he'd been expecting more of an ambush than this.

"No, I did not," Beritt said coldly. "Those men were expendable."

"Aren't all men to you?" James spat, his muscles tense and coiled to strike. "Merely pawns on your chessboard?"

"Not all of them; only most." Beritt smiled sardonically, before walking calmly into the room next to him. James followed warily. When his eyes fell upon the room, he froze. It was a torture room. There were shackles and chains in the room, covered in dried blood, and there were sharp tools of too many varieties to count hanging from hooks on the walls or resting on top of a blood-smeared metal table. Part of him cracked at the sight. Did they put Daphne through all this? She could deal with pain, but even imagining her being tied down, having her skin broken and torn and cut and-

"Barnes!"

James jolted, his feet moving before his mind had the chance to catch up. He raced away from the room and down the stairs, towards the sound of Silva's voice. He marched along the corridor, not knowing which room she was in until she stepped out into the corridor and beckoned him towards her. His pace increased.

Seeing the torture room was one thing. Seeing Daphne tied to a wall, arms hung above her head, looking pale and sickly, was another entirely. Her skin was still in one piece, so he figured she hadn't been too badly cut up (if at all), but if anything the dark bruises under her eyes and the lifelessness to her form was worse. Much worse. It was proof that she'd been through some form of hell. Something probably far worse than knives and brands.

That sick bastard had also put her back into her old Hydra uniform. James wasn't even aware Hydra had spares, because her original armour was still in the Tower, but somehow she was back how she used to be. Her armour hugged her body tightly enough that he could see every tremble and every twitch.

Then his eyes fell on the chair stuffed in the corner, the metal plates smoking slightly - proof that it had been used recently.

"Oh my God," he breathed, rushing forward to cradle her head in his hands. She didn't even stir, her eyes open and glassy. They were staring through him rather than at him, like her mind was somewhere else entirely. "Oh, Daphne, what have they done to you?" he asked, the sorrow in his own voice rubbing him the wrong way. Daphne blinked once, slowly. Her eyes remained blurred. He gently tapped her cheek, trying to get her to focus, but that didn't work. Figuring he'd sort her out later, he started to undo her shackles, but to his surprise Daphne hissed, her foot automatically lashing out and hitting him full-force in the stomach. He coughed, the hit having winded him, and looked up to see her eyes had cleared. She blinked again a few times, her gaze shifting from angered to confused to terrified. "Daphne?"

"James, get out of here," she said, eyes darting around.

"Not a chance."

"James, he planned this. It's a trap."

"You think I don't know that?" he snarled, brows twitching into a frown. "I'm _not_ leaving you again."

"You're putting us all in danger by being here. You have to get out."

But James had promised himself he wouldn't let her get away from him again. "I'm not leaving."

"Now isn't the time to be stubborn!" she cried in exasperation. As he stepped closer to him, she started shaking her head. "He's got a plan. He's going to find a way to lock you up. He wants us both, and he used me to get you here. You have to go, James. Please!"

Hearing her beg crushed him inside, but James was set. His mind would not be changed. "Agent Silva," he said in a firm voice. "Go back. Get the others. Tell them where we are."

"And what about you?"

"I'll live," he said simply. "Go."

Silva sighed heavily but shouldered her guns and nodded. As she left, James thought he heard her mutter, "You have no idea what you're doing, Barnes." James ignored her. It wasn't as if she knew any better.

Daphne shook her head again, eyes drooping, either with sadness or exhaustion, James didn't know. "You're so stupid," she mumbled quietly. That's when James realised there was more happening. He saw the tube leading from the wall, ending in the sharp point of a needle. A strange orange liquid was being fed into the tube and into Daphne's blood. With a slight snarl, he grabbed the needle and pulled it out, watching with satisfaction as the liquid started to drip onto the floor.

James glanced next to him at the chair. "Did they...?"

Daphne's head sluggishly turned to follow his gaze, before she nodded. "Yes, but..."

James cradled her face in his hands, dragging her eyes back up after her head slipped down. Her eyes fluttered slightly. "But what?" he asked. "Daphne?"

"It didn't work," she whispered, before groaning and convulsing slightly, her body clearly going through some kind of internal trauma and trying to fight it off. "James," she grumbled. "Gas."

James frowned. "What?"

He flinched when the door suddenly slammed shut behind him. He whirled around, but before he could move his mind began to become fuzzy. He looked around him and saw that a strange, white gas was being fed into the room. He tried to stumble his way to the door, so he could let the gas escape, but his limbs turned to lead and he couldn't think straight enough to remember how his body even worked. He slumped against the wall, breathing shallow and quick, and he turned his eyes towards Daphne, who was watching him with heavy, lidded eyes. She was the last thing he saw before his body gave up on keeping him awake.

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When James woke up again, he was in the same room. Only this time, he was in an identical position to Daphne. There was a tube attached to his right arm, slowly feeding him that orange liquid. It kept him calm, kept his heartbeat slow. It made him feel like moving was a Herculean task.

"Welcome back, Soldier," Beritt said, and James shifted his head slightly to glare at the man who was sat comfortably in a reclining chair with his feet up on a table in front of him. "I have some interesting information for you," he said with a grin. "The idea for the liquid being fed to you now came from your dear one." James blinked, trying to squash the surprise and hurt he felt. "Not willingly, of course," Beritt added. "But pain does strange things to the mind. She didn't even realise she was being interrogated - she was too focused on the pain in her body. We have some clever scientists here, Soldier. Some of them better than others. They developed a serum that stimulates the receptors in the skin to feel pain. At all times. Makes them feel like they're being burned alive. No one is impervious to that. Not even your precious Silverthorn." He nodded his head to the wall to James' right, and, with a significant amount of effort, James turned his head. Daphne was still tied to the wall, but at least she looked a little healthier. She was giving Beritt the most vicious glare he'd ever seen. He would have been impressed, were it not for the fact that anger was coiling in his stomach.

"What do you want with us?" he found himself asking, his voice biting but weak.

Beritt chuckled. "Nothing," he said. "Not with both of you, anyway. You, however, can be useful to me. But Silverthorn here has exhausted her usefulness. She told me everything she knows about the future while under the influence of our serum. And she gave me you - you, who is stronger than her, and a better fighter, and who has less to live for. Which brings me to our next order of business." He took his feet off the table and picked up a peculiar looking gun from under the table. James felt fear strike him instantly. "You recognise it, don't you?" Beritt asked with a grin. "Pulled this from an old war base. It was one of the first guns ever designed by one Arnim Zola. The power of the Tesseract is still stored within it, too, though I don't know how long it will continue to work." He stood up, grasping the gun in both hands. "I considered making you do it for a while," he said, looking at James, who glared back, eyes promising murder. Beritt smiled. "But I realised I have no real way of making you do that. Your will for her survival is too strong. I expect not even your trigger words would be enough, and I don't think it is worth the risk to find out. So, in the end I just figured I'd do it, and make you watch."

"You're insane if you think killing her is going to make me comply to your wishes," James snarled, pulling against his restraints, hearing the left one creak, but with the liquid in his blood his strength was lessened, so he couldn't break himself free.

Beritt's smile widened, became fierce. "Perhaps not," he said, "but if we put you in the chair enough, you'll eventually have her completely wiped from your mind. And without her there as a prompt for you to remember, there's no chance of our work being reversed. Besides, she's a threat. Two birds, one stone. Well, one gun, really."

James let out a yell, pulling against his restraints again, red-hot fury boiling through him, but he couldn't get himself free. Not even his metal arm, which was making a tremendous amount of noise as it tried to break free, could get him out.

"James." He stopped fighting when he heard Daphne's voice. He looked back at her, and saw she looked perfectly calm. Confident even. Her eyes held determination as she stared at him. She gave him a weak smile. "I'm going to be okay, James," she said softly.

James scoffed. "Don't be naïve, Daph," he said. "Unless by some miracle the others burst through the door now, you're going to be turned to dust. I've seen how those guns work. There's no chance of survival. Once you're hit, you're gone."

"I'm going to be okay," she repeated, and this time her voice was firm, brokering no arguments. "And so will you. We'll both be fine."

James could only stare at her, until he heard Beritt powering up the gun and raising it to point at Daphne. He tried to wrestle his way free again, grunting and cursing when his restraints refused to give. His eyes widened with fear as Beritt's finger twitched toward the trigger. His eyes met Daphne's again, and she gave him one last smile before there was a flash of blue, and she vanished from his sight.

His body fell fast into a state of shock. He stared at the wall where she'd been held, his blank mind unable to comprehend what he'd just witnessed. He continued to stare even when the door burst open, spraying him with splinters of wood. Stared even when Beritt was slammed against the wall beside him, his head cracking against the bricks and knocking him out. He continued to stare even when he vaguely noticed Steve hovering near him, talking to him with a voice he couldn't hear. He continued to stare even as he was untied and led out of the room. Only when his eyes could no longer see that spot did the fact that Daphne was gone sink into his head. And then he lost all control of himself. Suddenly, all he wanted was blood. Revenge. He wanted them all to die. And he knew who to start with.

Pulling himself from Steve's grasp, he felt himself move to unstrap a pistol from his belt. No one fought him as he took Beritt from Iron Man's grasp. They simply stepped back and let him raise the gun and fire a single bullet into Beritt's head.

It was nowhere near enough, but it was a start.


	15. Epilogue

**A/N: So this is the epilogue. The next story in the series is called 'Upon the Edge of Glory'. I'll post the first chapter in the next few minutes, so you should be able to find it fairly easily, if you want to. Thanks for reading!**

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 **Epilogue:**

The first thing I felt was the rain, falling fast onto my cheek, while the other was pressed against the ground. What was that? Mud? Yeah, that seemed about right. But where did the mud come from? I was in a concrete building a moment ago.

My body felt like it had been used as a punching bag, each limb aching with a ferocity I hadn't felt for a long time.

I heard people rushing around me, heard shouting voices, heard the sound of heavy boots on wet mud. I ignored it all.

That woman - what was her name? Mariana? Agent Silva, was it? - was a strange one. When she entered my room, she seemed unsurprised to find me there. She was calm when she put her guns in her belt and walked towards me, moving her hands to pull the silver necklace I'd seen her wearing at the dance from around her neck. She then placed it over my head and tucked the orange charm under my clothes, before rearranging my hair to hide the chain.

"This necklace will keep you alive," she had said, her voice suddenly sounding different. It was like the accent wasn't quite as crisp as usual. "You know of the Infinity Stones, right? This is one of them. It was given to me a while ago by a stranger, to keep me safe. Now it's my turn to do the same. One day you'll work out who I am. One day, it'll be your turn to pass this necklace on. But until that day, keep hold of it, and don't ever lose it."

Upon reflection, I probably should have immediately been suspicious of her, because no one in their right mind would ever willingly admit to holding an Infinity Stone, and then just _give it_ to someone else _._ But I wasn't in my right mind back then. So I'd asked which Stone it was.

The Agent had smiled. "It's the Time Stone. While it is around your neck, it will keep your body in a state of freeze. You won't age. Unlike the other Stones, this one _forces_ you to keep living. I'm sure you'll come to despise it one day, but you have to promise me you'll never get rid of it."

I had promised. And then she'd turned around and hollered for James. And then everything spiralled out of control.

I felt myself being pushed onto my back, and then someone was wiping mud from my face. I opened my eyes a crack, but all I could see was a blur of green and a bit of grey and blue and purple. Green leaves above my head. The green clothes of the man with the fuzzy face hovering above me. And the sky, a dark blue-purple. The thick clouds dropping large droplets of water all over my body.

Arms settled themselves under my legs and my back, and as I was lifted from the ground I let the events of the last day or so catch up with me and gave into my body's demands. I fell asleep in the arms of a stranger, uncaring that it was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. I was just too exhausted - emotionally, mentally _and_ physically - to care.


End file.
